


A Child's Innocence

by Bookwormgal



Series: Black Crayons [7]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Invasion, Anyone can die, Badass!Annabelle, Badass!Mikaela, Badass!Sarah, Canonical Character Death, Cell Phones, Chicago (City), Cute Kids, Dark of the Moon Rewrite, Destruction of National Monument, Explosions, Fight Scenes, Filling in Plot Holes, Friendship, Gen, Giant Robots, Goodbyes, Hero Worship, Horrible Accents, Hot Wiring, Kidnapping, Major Property Damage, MamaBear!Sarah, Marriage Proposal, Mikaela Stays, Minor Character Death, No Carly, Non-Canonical Character Death, Non-Canonical Character Survival, Rescue, Robots In Disguise, Serious Injuries, Strong Female Characters, Tearjerker, Three-Way Battle, Traitor, Twins, Washington D.C., kids in peril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 11:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 91,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1817512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookwormgal/pseuds/Bookwormgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was just a child; she didn't belong in a war. But the world wasn't fair. The monsters dragged her into it. But she'd always faced monsters and bullies before. She'd be a hero like those around her. A DoTM retelling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Calm Before The Storm Arrives

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first off, I want to make things clear. I am not generally one to write alternate universe type stories at all. I work with canon and explore the gaps that the movie/show/cartoon/book/whatever leaves behind. I work with the background characters or what happens after the end. Unfortunately, when a new addition to the series comes out, it can mess with the storylines a fanfiction writer has in mind. The perfect example? "Dark of the Moon."
> 
> Due to the events of the new movie, I have a few choices to make. Since my "Black Crayons" stories are set prior to the third Transformers movie (by approximately a year at least for some of them), I could possibly adapt my ideas to make it work correctly with the new movie. Or I might "bend" events from the movie. And, given the choice, I think option B is looking more promising. I will incorporate events and elements from the third movie, alter a few important things, and combine them with a charming little girl who would now be six years old. 
> 
> Some changes are obvious from the beginning, others will be revealed as things progress. Due to the nature of this story, there will almost certainly be some spoilers for the third movie, though not every event from the film will be shown. There will be some adaptation and changes to them or a scene from the movie may only be hinted at so that I don't have to replicate every second of it. Different points of view will be explored, thus not every event will be directly viewed. The repercussions of even unseen events that were directly shown in the movie will still show up. So, my advice is to watch the movie first.
> 
> Okay, here are the important changes to know up front. First, Mikaela is still around in this. The explanation in the film, that she simply broke up with him with little more discussion of the event, was unsatisfactory and Annabelle has already decided that the dark-haired young woman must stay. If this is a problem, go argue with the kid. Next, I will be including the twins, Mudflap and Skids, while trying to turn down the annoying. Jolt and the triplets will also be there a little. I know that the prequel comics and/or novelization likely covered what happened to all of them, but I haven't had the opportunity to read them. I've just watched the movie and they deserve to have at least some attention. Also, Megatron will remain scary and powerful. He's supposed to be the main antagonist of the "Transformers" franchise, right? He will be treated as such. I'll be bringing in some of the new characters of the movie too, but with a minor change. Even if they were referred to as "Dino" and "Que" in the actual movie, originally the Autobots were intended to be "Mirage" and "Wheeljack" respectively. I'm using those names. Other changes will become obvious as things progress.

She didn't like change. Going from preschool to kindergarten or anything school related wasn't too bad. She liked learning and the fact that Carl hadn't bothered her or anyone since his encounter with Barricade, an event she believed still gave the red-head nightmares, was a positive thing. Even when Suzie was transferred to another class wasn't too bad. They could still play at recess. School-related change was nothing she couldn't handle.

Other changes were more disturbing. Once Sam graduated from college, he and Mikaela had moved away to Washington D.C. so he could get an important job to help people. Why he didn't work with her father, Ironhide, and the big-headed joker, Mr. Simmons, was complicated and boring. Apparently a new "paper-pushing headache" was handling things now. This one, a woman, was less annoying than the grouch, Galloway, that Daddy tossed out the plane, but was too "by-the-book" in her parent's opinion. Anyone not really in the chain of command wasn't allowed anywhere super secret anymore. Simmons had somehow slipped out before the woman took command and Annabelle hadn't been able to go to the NEST island base that summer. The girl didn't understand the entire thing, even after Daddy and Ironhide explained the situation to her, but apparently grownups could be silly when it came to government stuff. And she didn't like it.

Her favorite babysitter was now living very far away, Daddy and Ironhide were busier than ever while the Decepticons had practically disappeared, and some people were beginning to wonder a little if the strange stuff like the really bad robot who appeared on television a few years ago, the Fallen (a funny name in her opinion), and the pyramids getting broken by a big fight might actually be real. Not all people. It still seemed too strange for them and strange things scare people, so they pretended it was just a big joke on the computer and meteors. Now, she sometimes heard other grownups, those who didn't know Ironhide or his friends, talking about how it _was_ possible that some of the "fake" stuff could be real. Annabelle didn't know if that would be good or bad for her favorite Cybertronian. Either way, she kept it secret like she always did. No one would ever hear a word about Ironhide from her.

The biggest change, however, was one that hadn't happened yet. Mommy was talking about moving. Even though they still had the island with the nice beach, the NEST people also had a new base in Washington D.C. that they spent lots of time at now. And since Daddy and Ironhide spent more time there now, Mommy thought it would be better to live closer so that it would be easier on the family. Annabelle didn't know what to think about it. On the bright side, she would be close to Mikaela, Sam, Bumblebee, Wheelie, and her other friends that stayed in that city now. She would get to see Daddy and Ironhide more often again, which she really wanted to. But, at the same time, she didn't want to leave. She didn't want to go to a new school, one that didn't have Suzie. She didn't want to leave her home, her room, and go to some strange place to live. What if she didn't like it? What if it didn't have a big yard where she could play with her best friend, where no strangers could see him transform? What if nobody there liked her?

Annabelle curled up on her bed, refusing to admit even to herself that she was sulking. She didn't know if she wanted to move or not, but she knew it really didn't matter what she wanted. Big choices were always made by grownups, not kids. Mommy, Daddy, and Ironhide might listen to what she wants, but the final decision would be theirs. If they thought that moving to a strange city would be the best thing to do, that was what would happen. She didn't like the idea that she didn't have a choice about big changes to her life, but that was how the world worked.

The girl sat up with a sigh. Pouting wasn't going to help her and she was better than that. She was a big girl, six years old for a few weeks already. Her teacher, the Autobots, and almost all grownups she knew always mentioned how mature she was and she knew that sitting around sulking was no way for her to act. But she didn't know what else to do. She couldn't talk to Ironhide since he was gone and he was probably really busy. And she couldn't talk to Mommy since she was sort of the problem.

Finally, she came to a decision. If she needed advice and she couldn't ask her parents or Ironhide, there was another person she could talk to. The only problem was that she was harder to talk to now, but Annabelle was resourceful. And Ironhide brought her a present the last time he was home.

Reaching under her pillow, she pulled out what looked like an ordinary cell phone like Mommy or any other grownup had. It was the kind that flipped open and it was a shiny black color that reminded her of her favorite truck in the world. The only difference that she could really see was that, when you opened it, there were no buttons. It wasn't a normal cell phone though. It was made by the new Autobot named Wheeljack and it could call any of the Autobots or their allies. It was also was supposed to be "untraceable" and "completely secure," which meant it was the only phone she could talk about secret stuff over. She didn't know what all the super high-tech stuff that the scientist Wheeljack was supposed to have done to it, but Ironhide had assured her that he made certain it wouldn't explode. So she wasn't really worried and she was probably the only kid in her class with a cell phone, even if she wasn't going to show it to them.

Opening the phone, she carefully stated, "Mikaela."

The small black object began ringing, something that it only did when she called humans. If she called an Autobot, it would connect immediately. They didn't have cell phones so her phone let her talk in their head, kind of how they would talk to each other silently. It was neat, but Annabelle didn't do it often since they were usually busy.

After a few moments, the other line connected and a familiar voice responded, "Hello? This is War- I mean, Mikaela's phone."

"Hi, Wheelie," she greeted, smiling at the voice of the small Cybertronian. "It's Annabelle. How are you?"

"Hey, Mini-Ironhide. Thought it was going to be Sam calling again. The boy's out trying to get a job still while Brains and I get stuck with Slobber-puss."

"Oh, tell Brains I said 'hi,'" the friendly girl grinned, remembering the odd new addition to the group of Autobots. He was supposed to be doing the same sort of thing that the other ex-Con was doing: hiding from the Decepticons by pretending not to exist anymore. He was even a little shorter than Wheelie, turning into a laptop computer. She'd never got to meet him personally yet, but knew he was staying with Sam and Mikaela. "Is Mikaela there? I wanted to talk to her."

"She's in the bathroom, changing for dinner later with the annoying loser," he answered. "And I know better than to-" He trailed off before shouted at someone else. "I wouldn't do that, Brains. She doesn't like to be disturbed." A second later, Annabelle could hear a furious female shriek and a loud crash through the phone. "Told you," muttered Wheelie. "Not my fault Warrior Goddess kicked you across the room." Apparently turning his attention back to the girl on the phone, he remarked, "I don't think now is a great time, but I'll tell her you called. Anything else, kiddo?"

Smothering giggles as she imagined what happened to the poor Decepticon drone all the way in Washington D.C., Annabelle answered, "No, I'm fine. I'll talk to her later when she's not busy. Thank you."

"No problem. Try not to cause too much trouble," Wheelie warned her, sounding rather amused himself.

While she never got the opportunity to discuss her problem, the girl was feeling a lot better. Listening to the Cybertronian, even for a moment, had cheered her up immensely. Wheelie wasn't Ironhide, but he was still a friend. It was a nice reminder that there would be someone waiting for her there that already liked her. And she would get to see her best friend more. Surely she'd be able to handle anything if it meant seeing Ironhide more. Even if she ended up having to move, it wouldn't be the end of the world.

* * *

"I can't believe you would do that, you crazy little freak," yelled Mikaela, glaring at the small, "wild-haired" Cybertronian in front of her. Wheelie was hiding behind the couch, watching the ensuring chaos from safety. "I went through this with Wheelie, but even he eventually figured out not to cross the line with me. We laid down some ground rules when we allowed you to stay, but you keep on seeming to 'forget' them. If a member of an advance civilization can't remember 'stay out of the bathroom when I'm in it,' then there is something seriously wrong."

"What can I say? My memory is not what it should be," Brains commented, trying to act innocent while still giving her a suggestive look.

"If I wasn't already running late, I would introduce you to my blowtorch," she growled, diving for her purse as she headed for the door of the small apartment she shared with her long-time boyfriend. As she left, she called back, "You'd be amazed how much respect you can gain by frying an optic."

It was basically the upstairs of a small auto repair shop she'd been saving up for since her father was released from prison, but it had enough room for the two humans, her dog, the pair of miniature Cybertronians, and Bumblebee if he stayed downstairs in the garage itself. Not that the transformed vehicle was here often anymore, but there was room for him. It had taken plenty of work and dedication, not to mention she had to build a name for herself in a new city and essentially start over instead of simply build on her father's business. But it was worth it. She was already developing a reasonable clientele and word of mouth was bringing in new customers. She would have to hire on a couple of assistance soon if things continued at the current rate, though there was risk involved in having people around constantly since Brains was still working on the concept of "subtlety." Crazy, ex-Cons.

Once Sam found a job here, they would be making enough money to eventually afford to expand the shop by buying the building next door. She could hire extra help and turn the place into a real business to be proud of. She loved working on cars, and robots that could turn into cars, and knew she was good at it. The fact she was doing so well business-wise was proof of that. If only Sam was having equal luck in his career choice, things would be perfect.

Her boyfriend, the frantic and rather amusing young man who once asked her to step into his alien car years ago, was trying so hard. He wanted a job that mattered, a job that would let him help people. She could understand that. She could understand his need to be needed. He helped save the world twice and only a handful of people actually knew this. He couldn't tell any of his potential employers about what he did, he couldn't say why his face was on every screen years ago when Megatron and the Fallen demanded that he be handed over, and he couldn't explain why the president gave him a medal (though he seemed to like bragging to random people that he _did_ receive one, including that blond girl standing just outside the oval office ten seconds after he was handed the thing). So far, his every attempt was met with failure. And with his parents planning a visit soon, Sam was trying even harder to gain employment before they arrived.

Grabbing her motorcycle and helmet from the garage, she raced away from her residence/business and towards her planned dinner with Sam. It wasn't very fancy; they were just meeting at a tiny family pizza parlor, but it would be just them. None of the commentary from Brains or Wheelie to distract them or having to deal with her canine, Bones, trying to beg for a snack. Just her and her favorite person on the planet. And, to make it even better, she could tell him about her big news.

She'd been approached earlier that morning about a rather good deal. Dylan Gould, CEO of the Hotchkiss Gould Investments and a huge fan of exotic cars, had apparently gotten wind of her quickly growing business and decided she would be perfect to help him. In his own words, he loved to work on vehicles in his spare time, but was finding that spare time was becoming a rare commodity. He wanted her to work on some of his beauties currently under refurbishment that he didn't have time to handle personally. He would pay insane amounts of money for the work, though she would be going to him rather than having him bring the cars to her garage. Mikaela knew exactly how rare such an opportunity was and she could only imagine how much this could help them.

* * *

Half a world away from his wife and child, heading towards a site of intense radiation that could probably leave him glowing in the dark, Lieutenant Colonel William Lennox couldn't help wondering when his life took an abrupt left turn at sanity and drove straight into science fiction. He could probably say it was when Blackout attacked the base he was stationed at and wiped out almost everyone present, but that didn't quite seem right. At that point, he could have still believed it to be some high-tech piece of equipment that he'd never heard about, but was still human-created. He could have remained in denial through Scorponok's attack and the trip back state side. It would have been hard at that point, but he could be stubborn. Probably, the point of no return into his new view about the universe would be when he saw the frantic high-school student, Sam Witwicky, stubbornly trying to convince Simmon, the big-headed joker who was even worse back then than he was today, to set his "car" free and observed the first Cybertronian not intent on killing him. Bumblebee was just the beginning, but something about the Autobot convinced Will beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was dealing with actual aliens and not some science project gone wrong. Now, years later, he accepted such concepts as life on other planets and alien technologies without hesitation. And some of his best friends were not even close to being human.

A rumor of Cybertronian technology in human hands was enough to bring him and his team to this death trap. Humanity caused enough problems with their own weapons and technologies. Providing the type of inventions that Cybertronians had created to people not ready for the responsibility could only lead to trouble. They needed to find whatever was here and take it back to NEST quickly. Preferably before everyone present suffered irreversible harm.

He still half-expected to hear Epps make some comment about radioactive spiders and superpowers. He never thought that he would retire from this, but his friend had finally had enough of the fight. He had several children, beautiful girls who needed their dad alive and well, and ended up taking a different route to help the Autobots. Epps was working with a group of Cybertronians referred to as the Wreckers. The trio, Roadbuster, Leadfoot, and Topspin, were a group mechanics who loved NASCAR and were too much trouble to be left unsupervised. They stayed out of the way and Epps played referee with them. Still, Will felt surprised every time he realized his friend wasn't standing beside him.

As they rolled to a stop, his gaze fell on a long-abandoned merry-go-round that sat innocently in this area of radiating death. Children once stood here, children like his daughter, before this site was ruined for generations to come. Somehow, the idea of innocence once existing in this forsaken place felt like an omen. Though, whether for good or evil, he didn't know.

* * *

The red optics of the hiding Cybertronian watched the group enter. This place, Chernobyl, was just the first piece of the puzzle. The avian-shaped being watched the poor fleshlings, wrapped against the radiation, walk deeper into the building towards the bait. A plan that had been in place for a long time, from before Megatron's return to the Decepticons from his icy prison, was coming to fruition. All they needed was for the Autobots to do what they always did.

Laserbeak was here to tie up loose ends. As soon as their little "friend," Alexi Voskhod, the only human here not wearing protection, led the group to the clue waiting for them, he would have to be removed. Not that the Decepticon minded. He was a vicious and cruel being without a shred of empathy for anyone. And the weak fleshlings were so easy to kill. There was so many possible ways to end their short lives and Laserbeak enjoyed exploring new ways. Every time Soundwave informed the avian-like Cybertronian that another human had outlived their usefulness was a new opportunity to slaughter the beasts.

Shockwave was waiting here as well. Hidden deep underground with his "pet," the cyclops-like entity would distract the group of humans and Autobots. He would try to "steal" the small object using his enormous, bladed, digging creature. The attack would convince them that the fuel cell was important and that they must hurry to the Ark. And the fools would. They would play directly into the Decepticon's servos.

Yes, things were going well. The plan was coming to fruition. And he would soon be able to murder another target. Laserbeak's smile, a cruel thing that would send the fragile fleshlings into a panic, spread across his metal beak.


	2. Unexpected Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the whole chaotic attack at Chernobyl (with the freaky, bladed, digging thing of doom and Shockwave against the NEST soldier and Optimus) does happen, I am not going to be describing the event. If you watched the movie (which you really should before reading this story), you have already seen the giant behemoth bursting out of the ground like a whale. Nothing I write will likely be able to capture the terrifyingly awesome scene and there are more important parts to focus on, scenes not part of the movie. There will be plenty of action and destruction later in the story (the location Chicago comes to mind…), so I don't think you'll miss out on a short event you can view by watching the film.

There are some very nice things to wake up to in the morning. The smell of fresh waffles is one. The knowledge that you are going to be experiencing the perfect day is another. The particular wonderful thing that Sam was awakening to was a pair of lips on his forehead that belonged to the most amazing and beautiful person in the world. He smiled slightly without opening his eyes.

"Good morning, Gorgeous," he mumbled. "I could get used to this kind of wake-up call. How about another kiss?"

Waiting for those soft lips again, hopefully on his own this time, the young man was left sputtering as a long, wet tongue began to drag across his face. Flailing around, he could hear both his girlfriend and two other voices laughing.

"Bones, get off me. Leave me alone," ordered the dark-haired hero, trying to keep the canine's tongue from entering his mouth. "I don't like you in that way. Help."

Taking pity on him, Mikaela laughing dragged the massive dog away from her thoroughly-slimed boyfriend. From the doorway, Brains and Wheelie were watching the pair of humans and seemed to be highly amused by the trick.

"Yeah, laugh now," grumbled Sam. "Just wait until he decides to turn both of you into chew toys."

"I'm shaking in my tires," Wheelie remarked, his red optics rolling towards the ceiling. "And if you are finished with your improvised shower, why don't you get a move on. Don't you have a job to find? You know, something to keep a roof over our heads? Or do you think that Warrior Goddess has to do all the work?"

Wiping the slobber off his face, the young man stood up. Mikaela, still smiling at him in such a bright and warming way that left him wondering how in the world he ended up so lucky, tossed him his "job-hunting" shirt towards him. He caught it and gave her a similar smile. No matter how frustrating it was dealing with continued rejection from people who wouldn't even be alive if it wasn't for him, Sam couldn't help feeling at least mildly optimistic when Mikaela was around. He could easily imagine a thousand reasons why he didn't deserve her, of why she might have left him for something better years ago or simply reached the point where she could not longer handle the chaos that followed a boy with an alien Camaro, but he had one important guarantee that she would always stand beside him and believe in him. And that reason was enough to banish any doubts about his future or himself: she loved him. And he loved her back.

"Hey, I'm a modern man. I'm secure with my sexuality. I can handle the fact that my gorgeous, brilliant, and extremely talented girlfriend can be successful at whatever she does," he stated, buttoning his shirt as he followed her out of the bedroom to their cozy living room/kitchen. "It makes her even more impressive to the other guys out there and they become even more insanely jealous of me."

"How humble of you," she joked right back, pulling out a box of cereal. "I'm glad to be your precious trophy girlfriend."

He shrugged, "What can I say? I don't deserve you and everyone wants to know how I ended up so lucky. And they want to be the one to lead you around on their arm. Look at this guy. This… Dylan Gould, whatever. You think he wants you around to fix his cars? Well, yes, he does. Because he knows you are just that awesome, Mikaela. But, now he wants to impress you with his expensive cars and his good looks or whatever and steal you away from me. He'll think that someone as smart, funny, and wonderful as you would want a successful, rich guy instead of a jobless loser like me."

"And he'd be right," muttered Wheelie, causing Brains to chuckle.

"Well, if he tried anything," she whispered, leaning close to the young man who'd been her boyfriend for approximately half a decade, "I'd have tell him that he has no chance of competing. I rather like my 'jobless loser' too much to be stolen from him." She planted a small kiss on his nose. Her voice still soft, she finished, "Even if he does smell like dog breath right now."

Laughing, Sam moaned, "Way to ruin the mood. All right, all right, I'll go wash off my face. Your dog really has a drooling problem."

"And that whole display was nauseating. Is there anything good on?" grumbled Brain, hitting the remote and flopping on the second-hand couch.

Studying the television screen as an episode of "Star Trek" came on, Wheelie muttered, "I've seen this one. This is the one where Spock goes nuts."

Wiping off any lingering traces of the canine's drool, Sam straightened the collar of his shirt. Except for the jeans, he looked almost like a young businessman ready for a day at the office.

"Okay, I have to go," called the young man heading for the exit. "Loads of job interviews today and I have to find one before Mom and Dad show up. Wish me luck."

Running down the stairs to Mikaela's shop, taking two stairs at a time, he was trying to prepare himself for another rough day of rejection. Hopefully, he would have at least a few possibilities today, but he knew that there would still be plenty of failure.

He was also trying to mentally prepare himself for driving "the replacement." It was yellow, it had stripes, and it was a piece of junk. If it wasn't for all of Mikaela's skill, he knew it would not even run properly. It would likely break down every ten miles. He was trying to be optimistic about the vehicle, to look at it as an opportunity to learn. His girlfriend was using the useless hunk of metal as a chance to teach him about engines and how to repair them. There was something about watching her bend over the mysterious collection of filters, tubes, and random pieces of metal that left him as tongue-tied and awkward as the first time he gave her a lift. It was always a beautiful sight watching her in her natural element and she wanted to share those wonders with him. But even as he learned as her student mechanic, her padawan, it did not change that he was working on a car. A plain, ordinary, ugly car. A replacement. Not Bee.

Bumblebee was busier than ever, as were all the Autobots. How that was possible since the Decepticons were being quieter than ever, he didn't know. What Sam did know was, not only was he out of the loop of what was going on anymore, but he hardly ever saw his guardian/best friend. He wished the Cybertronian could at least swing by the garage, spend at least an hour together between missions. He missed him. He missed the friendly Autobot with his carefully chosen sound clips. He missed the bright yellow car giving him rides for no other reason than to spend time together. He missed Bee trying to play matchmaker with him and Mikaela, even if it was obvious by now that they needed no further help with that. He missed his best friend and that piece of junk "replacement" was simply an annoying reminder that Bumblebee wasn't around much any longer.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a bus driving up. Instead of continuing past, the sound stopped. Right in front of the shop. Oh no… They can't be here yet…

He closed his eyes, praying that he was mistaken. His hopes were quickly dashed as someone began knocking on the main entrance to Mikaela's shop.

"Sam," a pair of voices called as the knocking continued and he quietly wished to melt into the ground. "Sam, are you there? Hello? Sam."

His parents were early.

* * *

Things were not going well. They weren't quite so bad that it could be called a disaster. Even watching some huge, digging monstrosity burst out of the ground and trying to steal some alien piece of technology didn't quite qualify as a disaster anymore in Will's opinion. If there was no major threat to a populated area or an ancient Cybertronian trying to extinguish the sun, he wouldn't call it a disaster. But watching that stern-faced, glasses-wearing woman march into the room (switching into more sensible shoes in the process), dragging her assistant behind her, Will knew things were about to get worse. He'd heard of the new headache to his life, the Director of the National Intelligence, but had been successful in avoiding a face to face encounter. Now, it appeared that he would have to meet Charlotte Mearing in person and he didn't think it would be a fun encounter.

Within seconds, she was berating him for the Autobot's little trip to the Middle East and getting ticked off for being called "Ma'am." If she wasn't careful, Will would have to reconsider his earlier decision to consider her less of an annoyance than Galloway. Trying to dismiss the idea of having her "tossed out of a plane" too, he tried to tackle her first problem.

His excuse, as weak as it sounded, was to compare them to teenagers who like to sneak out. She wouldn't like the truth anyway. Will had known exactly what the Autobots were doing in the spare time. Even for mechanical beings who could transform into practically any type of vehicle, hiding the knowledge that they intended to dismantle an illegal secret nuclear facility is hard to do. He would cover for them, however. Honestly, if they could fix things a little in the world and keep humanity from doing itself irreversible damage, he didn't see the problem. He trusted their judgment quite a bit after all this time and they always seemed to manage to avoid loss of human life during these "outings." And, given the choice between pencil-pushing, by-the-book, pain-in-the-neck people and the Cybertronians he'd fought beside for years, he was willing to cover for them as best he could.

She wasn't happy with his explanation, but he had bigger concerns. Ever since he saw the weird devise that the Decepticon, Shockwave, tried to steal, Optimus had been quiet. Not his usual, thoughtful quiet that Will was familiar. It was something else, something that concerned the man.

"What is this? The silent treatment?" asked Mearing.

Ironhide replied, "No, I've seen that. This is _not_ that."

"Definitely not," added Wheeljack.

"This is _worse_ ," the black Weapon Specialist confided.

While a few of the Autobots had slightly different phrasing for the problem as their leader transformed out of vehicle mode, the Lieutenant Colonel knew exactly what was wrong.

Optimus Prime was very upset. And that was a scary idea. When a Decepticon ticked him off, by doing something that pushed the limit on what peace-loving being would accept, things would become very destructive very quickly. The Fallen, an entity willing to condemn an entire planet of sentient beings to death by snuffing out the sun, learned this the hard way. Will respected the Cybertronian far too much to anger him, but it seemed someone had no problem with that.

Turning to face the woman, the first words the Autobot spoke proved him correct.

"You lied to us."

* * *

The sun blazed down upon the savanna, illuminating the herds of beasts that called this land home. Some would be considered among the most dangerous creatures of the planet. Even the herbivores were more powerful than the beings that claimed to be the mightiest on Earth, humanity. They were impressive animals, ones that illegal hunters would seek in order to sell their hides, horns, or tusks.

A militarized tanker truck drove across the golden grass, looking for all appearances to be the vehicle of one of those poachers or another human who made profit by spreading death. But not even the worst of those hunters, a rare one who might care more about causing pain than profit, had as much darkness in their heart as the cruelty that existed in the spark of the supposed "truck".

As the vehicle pulled up to the rough camp site, it began to twist and shift forms. Metal realigned into a different shape, becoming more bipedal. The cloth top of the truck moved up to create a hood and cloak that covered his head, his glowing red optics peering out from beneath.

Growling, the former truck announced, "All hail Megatron."

The leader of the Decepticon, hiding on this pathetic piece of rock in this backwater system, was not a happy Cybertronian. It irked his sense of pride to be reduced to such lows. He was once the most threatening being in the universe, striking terror into the sparks of his enemies. Then, he ended up frozen and trapped for ages by the weak fleshlings that inhabit this planet, temporarily defeated by a not-even-adult organic creature, and had his bid to use the Fallen thwarted by Optimus and that same organic.

The Fallen might have believed him to be a loyal servant, but Megatron served no one. Even before he arrived on this rock after following the Allspark, he'd been planning. He intended to have the Fallen drain the sun providing life to this planet, ensure that the filthy vermin that crawled across this rock were completely extinct, rebuild Cybertron in his own image to rule as he saw fit, and then remove the ancient Cybertronian from the situation. Oh yes, only a Prime could defeat the Fallen, but the Decepticon had already figured out a way to deal with that small problem. If that _boy_ , Sam Witwicky, had not revived Optimus, events would have gone as planned.

Now, another path to victory was clear. A technology that once could have saved the Autobots, but was lost to them long ago, would be "rediscovered." And recovering that technology would be their downfall. This strategy would be completely based on an old plan that he'd devised before his unfortunate experience with this planet's ice. The plan had been altered and perfected in his absence by his most loyal follower, leading to his assured victory. And while the coming victory was sweet, waiting on this primitive planet annoyed the Decepticon leader.

This camp site, previous cleansed of the humans who once occupied it, was crawling with primitive and half-developed Cybertronians. They were the remnants, the survivors, of the poor creatures that hid on the ship with the Fallen. Even with the proper nourishment, they would never have amounted to much. They were built as cannon fodder, stupid beings who obey without question and with limited personality of their own. They were simply an experiment intended to increase the Decepticon ranks. The brightest of them might have eventually ended up as a rather dull drone, but they were not that lucky. What they ended up being was a pathetic collection of small Cybertronians with a variety of quirks and little battle skill. Still, they could serve as cannon fodder if needed, so he allowed them to remain.

Sprinkling a hint of nourishment for the small oddities, he heard Starscream fly in.

"Oh, my poor master," he cooed with false sympathy. "How it pains me to see you so wounded, so weak."

The transformed jet might be his Second-in-Command, but he was not one to be trusted. If it wasn't for the fact that so far none of the other Decepticons would follow the plane, Starscream would almost certainly have used his leader's weakened state after the battle in Giza to take over. And to keep that traitorous being from realizing that he was nearly back to full strength, the Decepticon leader let him assume he was still weak and hurt, allowing Starscream to underestimate him. Megatron knew that he had to keep an optic on him, to be prepared for an ill-conceived attempt to take over the Decepticons, but such vigilance kept his mind sharp. And, to paraphrase a surprising insightful phrase that the organic insects that populated the planet had developed, it paid to keep loyal allies close and traitorous threats closer.

"Spare me you gaseous sycophant," he growled. "You know what you are told, which is nothing."

"Soundwave reporting Lord Megatron," the mech announced, stepping forward with his violent partner, Laserbeak.

"And what news from your little assassin?"

The avian-like being remarked, "The Autobots have taken the bait. They've discovered the Ark and returned with its cargo."

They were far more loyal than Starscream and they'd been working for several decades to bring the current plan to fruition. Working behind the scenes, using the disgusting fleshlings to take care of the individual details, they were the reason things were progressing so well.

Perhaps too well. The manipulation of the Autobots to follow the plan seemed so straight forward and clear now, but his previous strategy to use the Fallen for his own ends had seem similarly simple. He failed to capture and use the human pest, Sam Witwicky, in the end and searching for one particular organic among six billion had been an unneeded distraction. Sam was a dangerous variable, but Soundwave had assured that he would be taken into account this time.

But, would it be possible to create an unneeded distraction for the Autobots and their human allies? Keep them off-balance and unable to consider they were being tricked? The idea had merit. But what would be the ideal way to accomplish this?

The answer hit him almost immediately and the simplicity made the Decepticon grin cruelly. He would use the Autobot's soft-sparked nature and affection for the organic vermin against them. And from the reports of his follows of their encounters with the NEST group, he knew the perfect target.

"You did me great honor tracking that ship to the moon," he complimented his loyal follower. "Your human collaborators have served there purpose, Soundwave. It's time to take care of a loose ends." He directed his attention to the smaller Decepticon, "Laserbeak, the human have outlived their usefulness. Eliminate them."

"As you command, Lord Megatron," he responded rather gleefully.

"There is, however," the Decepticon leader interrupted, drawing his followers' attention again, "a small errand I'd like you and Starscream to take care of first."

The transformed jet narrowed his optics suspiciously. Megatron knew his second in command was wondering what he was up to, wondering if there was any type of trick involved in the unexpected "errand." Someone who spent so much time plotting his leader's downfall was certain to be wary of similar plots.

"I need you to pay a visit to the home of a certain fleshling," he explained. "I believe his designation is Lieutenant Colonel William Lennox."

* * *

This current mission was frustrating for the murderous Decepticon. Megatron wanted the human, one who had caused nearly as many problems and was a much more direct threat than that Sam Witwicky, _alive_. He wanted the Autobots distracted between investigating what was waiting on the far side of Earth's moon and trying to recover their stolen ally. Become grief-stricken over his death would not be nearly as distracting, so Laserbeak had to capture William Lennox alive. But the cruel creature didn't _want_ to take him alive. He wanted to riddle the human's body with bullets, to slice his vulnerable throat, to crush his fragile skull into fragments. It wasn't fair that he was being ordered to drag Lennox back in one piece.

His only consolidation was that, after he retrieved the human male, he would be slaughtering all the unnecessary humans that had been working for the Decepticons. Surely keeping _one_ alive was not too great a sacrifice for him to make since he would soon be testing his creative murdering techniques on large number of test subjects.

A quick check on the internet had provided the location, but he had no way of knowing if his target was actually present currently or would be returning soon. That information would require a certain amount of scouting. And scouting would require a quick change of appearance. Thankfully, stealth was one of his greatest skills, next to devising particularly painful ways to end a being's life.

The avian-like Cybertronian landed silently outside the residence. He could detect the presence of a human adult inside, but his pair of crimson optics were locked on a closer entity. Outside the building was a smaller, younger, more fragile member of the species. A female with light-colored hair, she was laying in the grass while moving a small black drawing implement across a sheet of paper for some purpose that Laserbeak neither knew nor cared about. What he did care about was the fact that this undeveloped organic would be ideal for his purpose. Her still-maturing mind would be easy to manipulate to his needs.

Shifting his body, Laserbeak adopted a more visually-pleasing form. It amused him to take a shape close to the organic-loving Autobot, Bumblebee, for his infiltration. Recalling that humans generally associated the color pink with females, as demonstrated by the shorts the small organic was wearing and the supposed "heart" symbol on her white shirt, he also changed his coloration to the bright color. Once he was satisfied that his disguise would generate trust and possibly affection from his target, the Decepticon stepped into view of the young human.

"Is your daddy home?" he cooed gently to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Shudders at the image). The first time I watched the scene in "Dark of the Moon" with Laserbeak visiting a little girl, I was afraid that it was Annabelle. And while later, it proved to be the child of another individual that Laserbeak was speaking to, the initial dread remained. So, I adapted to my story. And, yes, the Decepticon intends to go on his murdering spree soon. He just needs to pick up something first…


	3. Meeting the Enemy

It had been a weird day. After working very hard to convince his parents not to give him a ride to his many job interviews, and being very thankful that Mikaela had ensured his piece of junk "replacement" would at least run reliably so that he could drive himself, Sam had dealt with a series of increasingly unpromising interviews. They ranged from dealing with a guy that had to be even younger than the college graduate to a whole company that frowned on him because his medal from the president came from _Obama_. Stupid politics. His weirdest stop of the day was at this company called Accuretta Systems to meet with Bruce Brazos. That guy made Simmons look sane. The whole "red cup in the yellow room" thing was weird, but Sam knew he would have to adapt to it.

He had a job. He would be working as mail boy, a task not even close to the kind of job he wanted, but he needed a job. But it was so odd. His new boss had stated that Sam had a letter of recommendation, but the young man had no idea of how that was possible. Who would write him a letter and give it to the crazy guy? Someone in the government who finally decided to help his career? If they wouldn't give him a job working with the Autobots, did they think writing a letter would make up for that or something? Honestly, it was weird and unexpected. On the other hand, what really counted as weird for someone who counted an extraterrestrial as his best friend? Even if they didn't spend as much time together anymore…

But he tried to focus on the bright side instead of the oddness. He had a job now. And he couldn't wait to share the news with Mikaela. Even if it wasn't the type of job he had been hoping for, she would still be excited for him. And he could take to opportunity to see what this Dylan guy was like.

He trusted Mikaela. He really, really did. But he also knew that, even after all this time and after everything he'd done, she was still insanely out of his league. He knew it and anyone who saw them knew it. Even observers who realized that the dark-haired young woman was more than a pretty face and eye candy wondered what someone like him had to offer her. And if they took her statement about being "shallow" and having a weakness for hot guys that she made on that fateful car ride years ago into account, it looked like it would only be a matter of time before Sam was tossed aside for the next good-looking man to cross her path. But he knew that wasn't true and he trusted her. He loved her, she loved him, and he _respected_ her, which was something the guys in her past never did. They had shared too many life-changing experiences together, so all those people's suspicions that their relationship had no hope to continue indefinitely were wrong. He trusted his girlfriend not to go searching for a new man to replace him.

He just didn't trust random guys he didn't know. He didn't know what he looked like, what he acted like, and he had no idea if this Dylan person would try to pry them apart. Sam knew he was rich. And didn't the media teach people that someone with money likely would try to buy whatever they desire, including others' affections? He did not want to find out that some rich guy tried to buy Mikaela's love away from him, even if Sam knew with all his heart that he could trust his girlfriend to be loyal. He was bound and determined not to feel threatened by the possibility. He trusted her, but he didn't want to run the risk and go through all of that mess if it could be avoided.

Unfortunately, as his pathetic vehicle pulled up to the white building that looked like the offspring of the opera house in Sydney and Disney World's Epcot, Sam couldn't help feeling just a small twinge of doubt.

* * *

"Dey still shoulda' let us go wit dem," grumbled Mudflap. "Sendin' jus the Hatchet as back-up is just mess'd up. We coulda helped dem find whatever doohickey that iz up der."

His twin gave him an odd look, "What? You dat excited to 'ead to dis planet's moon? We go all over da 'verse and you wanna just go to da moon?"

He shrugged, "Woulda been nice to 'ave been asked."

Skids shook his head, "Not me. Ratchet iz nearly as bad as Ironhide. We'd 'ave ended up with a ton of new dents on da head." After a moment, he added, "Which might 'ave improved your looks."

"We're twins, you glitch," he reminded. "We look alike. 'Sides, I'm da best looking of us."

"What? 'Ave you looked in a mirror? You're as ugly as dat giant Decepticon I killed on da pyramid."

"Wait, 'you killed?' Nu-uh, I totally won dat one," argued Mudflap, waving his hands wildly. "I beat out 'is optics after 'e tried to eat me. Remember? You just got in da way."

"Did not."

"Did so, Ugly."

"You're da ugly one. And did not."

"Did so and you know it."

And with that, another of the pair's endless fights broke out and the NEST personnel gave them a wider berth.

* * *

They were beautiful cars, far more exotic and expensive than those she generally worked on. Mr. Gould had fantastic taste and she was impressed by the vehicles. She would have killed for the chance to work on these things. And considering how much she was getting paid for the privilege, it was probably the best job she would ever have.

The man himself was… She didn't know. She didn't know what quite to make of Mr. Dylan Gould. He was handsome, though older than her while not being "old", and obviously successful. He seemed friendly enough and treated her like an individual deserving of respect.

She ran into far, far too many men who saw a great-looking body and automatically assumed her IQ was on the low end of the spectrum. That wasn't ego; that was fact. She knew she was considered beautiful ever since she started to properly develop as a young teenager and boys had started to stare at her with an expression somewhere between awe and wonder. A smile and a glance could leave them drooling in her wake, but only those with an ego the size of a planet felt confident to actually speak to her. And those boys never cared about anything below the surface. They would try to flirt with her, bringing their vehicle in to be repaired and talking down to her like she couldn't possibly know the first thing about engines, and generally treat her like being a female meant she was only something pretty to look at. Too many times, she would run into guys that were essentially "Trent clones." She half-expected them to call her their little bunny.

Dylan Gould wasn't doing that. He had stated that he sought her out because of her growing reputation as a skilled mechanic and his expectations of her abilities had not changed due to the fact she was a young woman instead of male. That didn't mean he didn't seem appreciative of the view whenever he wandered over between his other responsibilities, but he kept comments on her figure as she leaned over the engine to himself. And yet, she wasn't sure what to make of him. There was something important, something she couldn't quite put her finger on…

"Mikaela, it looks like your Prince Charming decided to pay you a visit," announced her current customer as he walked back into the room she was occupying.

Looking up, she saw the well-dressed man leading in Sam. Her dark-haired boyfriend was still wearing one of his best outfits for his interviews, but he looked practically scruffy next to Dylan Gould. He was also giving the older man a mildly distrustful glare. Mikaela couldn't help smiling slightly at her boyfriend's expression. She wouldn't cheat on Sam, but there was something a little flattering about having him jealous. A girl likes to know that her man is still interested, after all.

"Hey, Sam," she called, wiping off any grease off her hands with a rag. While she wasn't wearing her most fashionable outfit, she had managed to dig up something a little more flattering than navy coveralls. She had wanted to make a good impression on her first day working here, so she had dressed up as much as would be practical for a task that would likely be messy. Giving a quick glance over, she determined that she'd avoided having too many stains on her clothes and gave her boyfriend a light hug. "How did it go?"

"I got a job," he confirmed, smiling at her with triumph. She wanted to give him a tighter hug at the news, but she didn't want to ruin his shirt with a stain she didn't spot in time. "Not a dream job, but a job." He shrugged, "I'm a mail boy for a company called Accuretta Systems and I think my boss is out of his mind, but there are worse things."

"Well, I'm proud of you," stated Mikaela firmly. "Things are finally turning around for us. I mean, look at this place."

She indicated the room and the building in general. He had to have noticed the unique architecture and expensive cars on his way in. Frowning slightly at the reminder of the location and the man who owned everything and was present, Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I gained a job, so now I'm here in Disney World," he joked. "After we're done with Epcot, do you want to try out the spinning tea cups?" He looked over at Dylan Gould, "I'm kidding. This is all very impressive. And expensive. And white."

"Glad you approve, Sam," answered the multi-international car company owner, giving the younger man a rather friendly grin. "And you are so lucky to have such a beautiful and talented girl at your side," he complimented, turning his gaze to Mikaela. "Don't let her go. You don't find someone like this every day. You'd better be careful that someone doesn't try to steal her away."

"Don't worry, I trust her," he replied, her boyfriend's eyes hardening slightly. "We have nothing to worry about."

She could see a tension forming between them and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Sam might not be a macho, testosterone blockhead like some that she dated in high school, but even he wasn't immune to the long-standing tradition of male posturing. Dylan had questioned his ability to keep his woman interested, so he had to demonstrate that he would not tolerate a threat to his relationship. Mikaela recognized the signs and knew that she wouldn't be able to stop the inevitable. Eventually, the pair of them would reach a point where they had to either become life-long enemies or best buds. Stupid Neanderthal male instincts.

"Of course you don't," Dylan assured, not rising to the implied challenge yet. Placing his arm across the younger man's shoulder, he began to draw him aside, "And I'll tell you why that is."

Shaking her head at what was undoubtedly going to be some kind of attempt at male bonding, she turned back towards the engine she'd been working on previously. It would be easier if her boyfriend and very rich customer got along, but she'd manage either way.

Even though she'd been around loud engines, and eventually explosions and artillery, for a large portion of her life, her hearing was actually fairly sharp. She'd always heard the other girls at school whispering gossip about her and what she was likely doing with the guys she dated. She knew exactly how little they thought of her and that she would do anything for a guy. So, overhearing Dylan's conversation with Sam was far too easy. She wasn't purposefully eavesdropping, but she still managed to hear every word.

"A girl like her would normally be in an entirely different league than you. You can't deny that. Beautiful and successful in a primarily male-oriented career like this? But, now that you're on your own path to success, you can close the gap of difference between you," the older man described. "I have a preference for siding with the winning team, but I sometimes like to help out the underdog. And this little 'opposites attract lovers' thing between you is too sweet." He paused for a moment before explaining, "I'm on the board for Accurretta Systems. I wrote your recommendation letter to get you a job." Mikaela struggled to keep her mouth from opening in surprise at the statement. _He_ was responsible for Sam's new job? "We'll just keep this between us. And you're welcome."

* * *

Stretched out, resting on her elbows, she was putting the finishing touches on her latest creation. She had remembered seeing the White House on television one time and was trying to recreate it on her sheet of paper. Since Ironhide was spending lots of time there and she might be moving there soon, she thought it would be a good idea to start learning how to draw stuff there. She didn't know if the house had as many daisies in the front yard as she drew, but they did make it look pretty. And, of course, she was already drawing a black truck next to the building. She was coloring slowly so that there were no white spaces left on the vehicle.

"Is your daddy home," a strange voice cooed gently.

She looked up in surprise. Standing in her yard was a robot. Specifically, it was one she didn't know. It was taller than Wheelie, but shorter than Chromia. The voice sounded closer to being a boy, but it was also a pretty pink color. Oddly, it looked a little like Bumblebee.

But the most important thing she saw was that it had red eyes. That was not good. Daddy and Ironhide told her that, except for Wheelie, all robots with red eyes are bad ones. Red eyes mean it was a Decepticon like Barricade. And if there was a bad robot here, while Daddy and Ironhide were far away, who would stop it?

She stood up slowly, not answering the question yet. She remembered what Wheelie told her that night she had a scary nightmare when he and Mikaela were baby-sitting. He said that she couldn't fight big robots since she was small and didn't have cannons like Ironhide. He said that since she was small like him, it was better to run away from Decepticons.

She could run into the house. Mommy was inside. And Mommy could fix almost anything and nothing bad could happen if she was there.

But bad robots like to hurt people. That was why Daddy and Ironhide fought them. They had weapons to fight them, like cannons and guns and stuff. Mommy didn't have those. What if… the bad robot tried to hurt Mommy?

The very idea seemed crazy, but Annabelle couldn't help wondering a little. Mommy didn't fight bad robots. She took care of her, yelled at people when they misbehaved, and made the twins panic a lot. But she didn't fight. And Daddy said that part of the reason he fought Decepticons was to protect "his ladies." That meant Mommy was supposed to be protected from bad robots. But, if Daddy and Ironhide weren't here, who would protect Mommy?

Maybe she could call someone. Her special phone, the one to call the Autobots and their friends was in her short's pocket. But that was a secret. She couldn't call while the Decepticon watched her. She couldn't ask them to protect Mommy and her from the bad robot because she couldn't let it see her phone.

Well, Wheelie said to run away because she was a lot smaller than the Decepticons, right? But this one wasn't really, really big. It was bigger than Wheelie, but still kind of small. Maybe she could take care of the problem by herself. She _was_ a big girl and Decepticons are just big bullies. You have to stand up to bullies.

Trying to convince herself that she could do this and to be brave, she gave the pink Cybertronian a small smile, "No, Daddy isn't home. Who are you?"

Tilting his head slightly, it slowly answered, "My designation is Laserbeak." She didn't remember that name, but that didn't mean anything. There were supposed to be lots and lots of bad robots who were still in space or were hiding somewhere on Earth. It was just one she never heard of. It continued, "Do you know when he will arrive?"

"Later," she shrugged, trying to act like she wasn't nervous.

Maybe it would go away by itself. If she acted brave and didn't let it know she was scared of him, maybe it would go away.

"Would you like to play a game while I wait for him?" it asked, watching her carefully. "I believe young humans enjoy such things greatly and it would pass the time as I wait."

That was bad. It wanted to wait for Daddy to come home. But that could be a very long time. And what if it saw Mommy? Someone had to protect everyone like Daddy and Ironhide did, but none of the Autobots were here. She needed a hero, a real hero, to show up and save the day. A hero like Daddy. Like Ironhide. Like all the soldiers and Autobots that helped them. Someone really brave and strong. But she couldn't wait for them to show up. It could take forever. Something had to be done soon.

Nodding to his question, she answered, "Okay. What kind of game, Laserbeak?"

The pink Bumblebee-like being paused, as if confused, but eventually stated, "Why don't you select an activity? Preferably one within the domicile?"

She remembered that word. Ironhide used it once. The Decepticon wanted to go inside the house. But Annabelle couldn't let that happen. Mommy was inside. She needed to stop the bad robot now.

"I need to get something first," she delayed. "Something important. Then we can go play in my room. Can you wait right there? Please?"

Chuckling in a way that sent a shiver down her spine, it nodded, "Of course, small one. I think we will have _fun_ together."

Gathering every shred of courage she had in her six year-old body, she moved purposefully towards the tall pine tree that occupied her yard. She loved to climb it whenever she could get away with it. Unfortunately, both Mommy and Ironhide worried about her if she went too high. Near the trunk was a branch that had broken off during the last storm. She'd been using it as a pretend sword in some of her games lately. It was fairly sturdy, not even breaking when she hit it against the tree while pretending to fight pirates. She bent down to pick up her dependable stick.

"What are you doing?" asked Laserbeak, its voice startling her since it was directly behind her. It had followed her after all and was very close. "Why is that 'important'?"

Without answering, Annabelle swung her makeshift weapon around and hit the piece of wood against the pink-armored Decepticon. Her swing had as much force behind it as she could manage, causing her hands to sting with the impact. She didn't let the fact it hurt stop her; she repeated the strike again.

Before she could hit the bad robot a third time, it grabbed the stick and ripped it from her grip. It didn't seem hurt by her attempt to fight. It seemed mildly amused. That scared her more, but she did her best to glare at the Decepticon like her mother did when she was mad. Annabelle didn't back down from bullies.

"Go away, Laserbeak," she shouted at the pink Cybertronian, her sore hands balling into fists at her side. "I know what you are and I'm not afraid. Ironhide and Daddy will beat you up if they see you."

"I think you are lying, small human," it chuckled. "I know you are afraid. Terror clings to you very clearly. But," it paused for several minutes, the red eyes going up and down as it looked her over, "if you are important to Lieutenant Colonel William Lennox and the Autobots' Weapon Specialist, a change of plan may be in order."

It fell silent, its gaze growing distant. She knew that look. It meant that the pink Decepticon was either on the internet or talking to someone silently. It was distracted, so she decided to try Wheelie's advice now. Now was the time to run. Warn Mommy of the bad robot.

Just as she did against Carl a long time ago, she threw a punch against the unyielding metal in front of her. It hurt her hand and she knew it was a pointless attempt, but she had to try anyway. But as soon as she threw the punch she was running for her house. She hoped her quick attack and immediate retreat would be surprising enough for the Decepticon to allow her to escape.

Unfortunately, she knew it didn't work in less than a second. Behind her, she heard the familiar sound of a Cybertronian transforming. It was coming after her. The bad robot was after her.

"Mommy!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, trying to both warn her parent and call for help. "Mommy!"

Something grabbed her shoulders, pointed pieces of metal poking through her sleeves painfully, and lifted her from the ground. She screamed wordlessly as it lifted her higher and higher, beyond what Ironhide would ever lift her. Below her, Annabelle could see her parent run out of the house. She could hear Mommy screaming her name, staring skyward as the child was lifted away by an enemy.

The terrified little girl craned her neck, trying to see who was carrying her. A metal bird with red eyes clasped her with his talons, flying her farther and farther from her home and parent's heart-broken cries. And it was heading towards a circling jet, a triangular jet covered with strange black lines. Somehow, the strange jet seemed foreboding and malevolent.

Without hesitation, the bad robot carrying her dropped her into the seat of the jet and chuckled in a voice that she recognized as the pink Cybertronian's, "Take care of our little guest, Starscream. I have another mission to take care of."


	4. Surprising Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Annabelle is with Starscream, her father and Ironhide don't know, and Sam meets Jerry Wang (who then meets Laserbeak).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping timelines straight in my head is annoying...

Starscream was not happy about his current situation. He was a powerful Decepticon, second only to Megatron himself (for now…). He was a skilled warrior, knowing when to fight and when to enact a tactical retreat to survive another day. If he had to handle missions given to him by that incompetent leader of his, should it not have been one worthy of his abilities?

The task he was given was to transport the human soldier, Lieutenant Colonel William Lennox. While mildly demeaning, Starscream had to admit it could have been worse. At least that particular organic had a reputation from his successful battles against the Decepticons in the past. But, when Laserbeak had contacted Megatron about a possible alternate target, he ended up having the avian-like Cybertron deposit an underdeveloped fleshling in his cockpit instead. Having to transport and watch the small, messy, terrified organic was a mission far below him. And, honestly, he couldn't wait to get rid of the human.

So far, the young fleshling had curled up on his seat and whimpered quietly for several minutes. Her face was wet with clear liquid from her eyes, her knees held tightly to her chest, and her whole body shook slightly. He'd seen fear before, he had seen how these organic creatures react to stress and terror, and her reactions were falling somewhere in the middle of his experiences with humans. She was not as stoic as some of the NEST soldiers that augmented the Autobot forces, but she was not in that state of petrifying shock that so many humans adopted when they first observed one of the Decepticons in all their glory. It was mildly impressive that such a young fleshling was handling the situation as well as she was.

He had a vague affection for young beings, such as the poor primitive younglings that had been retrieved from the Nemesis to scurry around that makeshift base in Africa. Even if those particular Cybertronians would never have had much of a future, regardless of any other factor, Starscream had no qualms keeping an eye on them. Unfortunately for the small female in his cockpit, any small feeling of pity for the still-growing being was mostly canceled out due to his distaste for humans in general and his frustration at being assigned such a demeaning task.

Silently fuming at his situation, he almost didn't notice when the small organic wiped her face with her hand and gained a mildly more bold expression.

"You're name is Starscream, right?" she asked quietly.

"What?" he snapped, wondering why his cargo was trying to address him.

Cringing at the tone, she explained, "Laserbeak called you 'Starscream' when he dropped me in here. Is it?"

"Yes, it is," he answered shortly.

The conversation was apparently not finished in her opinion. Sliding her feet down, she sat up straighter and looked directly at the console in front of her.

"I know who you are. You work for Megatron. He's in charge of the Decepticons."

"Thank you for informing me of something I already know," he answered sarcastically, though secretly pleased to be recognized.

"But everyone knows you'd be better at it," she added.

That did leave the Decepticon silent for a moment. From his understanding of the extremely young of this species, they would often repeat back phrases that their elders would say. Rather like those colorful avians that occupied the more tropical regions of the planet. Did that mean that this particular specimen had heard something? Laserbeak had stated that this was the offspring of their original target. Perhaps her parent had mentioned something within her hearing.

"You're smarter and better than Megatron," she continued. "If you were in charge, I bet the bad robots would have won a long time ago."

"And where did you hear that?" Starscream asked curiously, enjoying that someone seemed to see the truth.

She shrugged, "I don't know. I just did."

"Do you recall anything else about how I am superior to Megatron?"

"Not right now. Maybe later," she answered. Quieter, she asked, "What do you want with me?"

"Megatron believes you will work as well as your father for his needs," he explained, allowing a hint of mocking towards his leader to slip into his tone. "As does Laserbeak. So I have to keep you in my possession for now."

"But why?"

"That does not concern you," he answered sharply, reminding himself that she was both his prisoner and lowly organic.

She became quiet again, her eyes falling towards her shoes. She folded her hands across her lap and remained still for several minutes. Then, starting to fidget, she looked back at the console.

"Does that mean you'll be flying around in the sky the whole time with me? Don't you have more important stuff to do?"

"Yes, I _should_ be on missions more befitting of my abilities," he answered. "But I have orders to ensure that you are kept in our possession."

"But can't you use the 'chain of command' thing to make someone else do stuff you don't like? If Megatron isn't around, you're boss of them, right?"

The idea, as simplistically described as it was, had merit. One the advantages of being Second-in-Command should be the ability to delegate such menial task. Surely there was a Decepticon on this planet that could guard a young human instead? One currently waiting for their coming attack, but with no current duty…

"Perhaps you are right, fleshling."

"Annabelle," she corrected quietly, but he ignored it.

"I believe I know the ideal Decepticon to bestow this 'honor' on. We'll meet him further east, but it could take him some time to arrive. Those energon detectors will force him to take a less-direct approach to the ideal rendezvous, but he is skilled at such avoidance. Until then, you will remain still and silent for the entirety of the trip."

Obeying his instructions for silence, the young female nodded. Satisfied she would not distract him for the moment at least, he began to open a com-link to his intended victim. The disadvantage of having a passenger riding inside was that she would hear the conversation, but it was easy enough to use Cybertronian instead of English. Not that she would have been able to use the information, even if she did hear it.

"Barricade, I have a task for you."

* * *

She was calming down a little now. She was recalling everything Wheelie said to do around Starscream. And he did seem happy to hear nice things about himself and that he was better than Megatron, so she was probably safe for a little while.

But, after he told her to be quiet, she heard something very familiar. The electronic-sounding language of the Cybertronians, a language that Ironhide had worked hard to teach her, was being spoken by Starscream. She knew more words now than when she stopped the twins' attempt to trick Ironhide or when she ran into Barricade, even if she couldn't say all of them.

"…, I have … task … you."

A few moments later, a different voice came through the radio. It also spoke Cybertronian.

"This better… important,…"

"I need you… guard… human. Only until… Autobot traitor… Prime acts. After he reveals his true… and we have…, it…not matter what you do… human."

Annabelle frowned a little in confusion. An Autobot traitor? Did he mean a good robot had become a bad one? Like how Wheelie and Brains became an Autobot after they stopped being a Decepticon? That was very, very bad. And they said "Prime," but it wasn't Optimus Prime. She knew the word for Optimus' name and that wasn't the word they said. It was a different word, but it was still part of the name. Something Prime. But Ironhide said that Optimus was the only "Prime" left. And Optimus couldn't be the traitor anyway. So who were they talking about? A Prime, who wasn't Optimus Prime, that was going to do something bad to her friends. It made no sense.

"Must I?"

"Yes. Meet us… location. ..."

The next several words were too complicated for her to recognize, but she felt the jet turn slightly. She didn't know what was going on, but she couldn't help wondering about the short conversation she'd overheard.

* * *

It took time for a ship, even one belonging to the Autobots, to reach the moon and return with a long-lost ally and whatever important cargo that the Ark had been transporting. Will knew this and was taking the opportunity to relax slightly. Undoubtedly, there would be more questions and answers to discuss once they arrived and he would have to try and referee between the annoying woman and the Cybertronians again. Why did every government representative sent to deal with the Autobots have to be such a headache for everyone involved? If Epps was here, he'd undoubtedly have some wonderfully colorful words to describe Mearing.

Still, she was keeping out of his hair for the moment, so Will figured she was waiting until Optimus was present again. He didn't wish her on anyone, let alone the leader of the Autobots, but the small reprieve from her presence was a nice experience. Instead, all he had to deal with that evening was the perpetual arguments between the twins, making sure that combat training for those under his command was properly executed, and wondering what the Decepticons were after this time. That last act was fairly pointless until he met their newest Autobot arrival and learned what exactly they were bringing with them, but it was better than wondering where in the universe that the Decepticons got that giant worm thing that attacked in Chernobyl.

"Sir, you have a call coming in," one of the more tech-oriented member of NEST informed him. "Line two. I think it's your wife."

That made him pause. It was vaguely possible for Sarah to fight her way through the red-tape to get a phone call to him. He'd left her the information she would need to provide to be allowed such a thing and there were times where he felt those paper-pushers would have bowed to her wishes due to her forceful personality anyway, though it would still take an impossibly long amount of time and effort to reach him. She'd never called him at NEST while he was on active duty. He would call her if he had the opportunity between missions, but she had never gone through the nightmarish amount of work to get a phone call directly into the NEST base. She would not have done this unless absolutely necessary.

Dread was already beginning to build in the man before he picked up the line. He could feel that something was wrong. Something was deeply wrong.

"They took her," she sobbed desperately across the line, his wife's voice so grief-stricken and choked with tears that he almost didn't recognize it or immediately understand the words. "They took her, Will."

"Sarah, Sarah, slow down. What's going on?" he asked, trying to gain some comprehension of the frantic words spilling out of her mouth.

"They _took_ her," she repeated, his strong-willed wife sounding completely dispirited. "They took my baby. Annabelle is gone. The Decepticons have her, Will."

No.

Not her.

Not Annabelle.

His mind refused to work, but too many years of training and combat allowed his body to continue operate. He stood straighter, his eyes narrowed, and the soldier turned to face towards where he knew his allies were waiting. They were staring back at him. Cybertronians could hear practically anything; they had heard what Sarah had said over the phone. They had heard what happened to Annabelle. The Autobots would not allow this. Ironhide would not allow this. _He_ would not allow this.

"She was playing outside this morning. I heard her screaming and ran outside. Some kind of mechanical, red-eyed bird had her and flew away. They took my baby girl," she described, breaking down into wordless sobs at the thought.

His mind wasn't recovered yet, but his mouth answered his distraught wife, "They will not have her long, Sarah. I'll make sure of that."

Sarah didn't respond to his words, but her sobs shifted to something that might have been mildly more hopeful. It broke his heart to hear her in such emotional pain and him being unable to comfort her properly. But how do you comfort a mother whose child had been snatch away? Especially when you are just as terrified for the girl's safety? Even the fear when she ran into Barricade was nothing compared to this. It had taken Sarah hours to get through all that stupid red-tape and Annabelle could be anywhere by now. Anything could have happened to her already, could be happen right this second. And he didn't have the slightest idea of where to start looking for her.

He was her father. He was supposed to protect her from harm, to keep her safe. But he'd been too far away. And now he'd lost her. His baby girl…

"No, Will," answered a low and dangerous voice. He looked up, meeting Ironhide's blue optics with his gaze. The black Cybertronian had stepped forward, his cannon whirling dangerously. " _We'll_ make sure of it."

* * *

His first day on the job, delivering mail to everyone while hoping to avoid his insane boss, and he was already wishing to be fired. After all the trouble to get a job and now Sam was wishing to go back to the nightmare of endless interviews again.

Really, his trouble had started the evening before. Mikaela had driven home in a very nice, very expensive car that her new customer had insisted she use. Dylan's excuse was that he liked to provide company vehicles for all of his most valuable employees, even one that only worked for him part time. Sam knew it was another ploy to undermine him. That rich guy was trying to turn Mikaela into his some kind of trophy girlfriend of his own. He wanted to impress and steal away the beautiful brunette. And Mikaela completely agreed that it was both inappropriate and not an act of a man who just wanted to be friends. On the other hand, she also pointed out that not only was this particular job a once in a lifetime opportunity, but it would be incredibly rude to turn it down on the first day. So they were stuck with another reminder of Dylan's money and power, a symbol to taunt Sam of things he couldn't give her. Maybe he could sell it on E-bay later…

Next, Wheelie had finally remembered that Annabelle tried to call Mikeala before. Unfortunately, the phone for the Lennox residence had remained busy for at least fifteen minutes straight. Concerned over what her favorite little kid had wanted, Sam's girlfriend had been distracted for the rest of the evening.

But this morning had taken the cake for unpleasantness. Just thinking about how the Autobots were off saving the world while he organized about four binders was rather frustrating. Delivering mail was not how he pictured himself making a difference. But when one of his fellow employees, Jerry Wang, stole his jacket and ran for the restroom… Sam was forced to truly reconsider if this was the type of work environment that he wanted to work in.

He started talking crazy gibberish that, when he thought back, sounded like the sort of thing Leo or Simmons would come up with. Conspiracies and secret government cover-ups about the moon. Of course, considering how often those two had been right, Sam went through the wad of newspaper clips and hand-written notes "Deep Wang" had provided. The longer he read, the more he felt that the crazy guy who attacked him in the toilet stall might actually be on to something important.

Oddly, when he went to confront Jerry about the entire event, he not only denied everything, he acted like _Sam_ was the insane one. And, about ten seconds later, he apparently decided to test the power of gravity by splattering himself across the ground several stories below. The dark-haired young man, the collection of conspiracy clues firmly in his hand, couldn't help wondering if it was suicide or something else.

His boss, Mr. Brazos, was talking to him as they headed towards the office of the formerly-living Accurretta Systems employee. He was spouting more insanity, this time connected to what he thought had happened in the restroom, but Sam's thoughts were still stuck on Jerry, who died almost immediately after passing along information that he felt was vital. Jerry, who had acted as if there was someone after him. Jerry, who had been acting even weirder after he handed over those newspaper clippings. Suicide or murder.

Distantly, he heard someone mention a copier that was acting up. Without even realizing why, that snippet of conversation brought up the memory of "Satan's Camaro" refusing to act like a normal vehicle. A split second later, he recognized the connection between the memory and the faulty copier.

As soon as he heard the first hint of transformation, Sam was running. After so many years of dealing with giant mechanical beings trying to kill him, he had perfected the art of fleeing for his life. He'd even practiced his skills at this survival strategy so that even obstacles wouldn't impede his swift flight.

The Decepticon attacked; Sam ran. And things were back to normal for him.

* * *

Murdering the human, Jerry Wang, was fun. Watching him splatter across the asphalt below left Laserbeak filled with glee. Jerry was his favorite of the humans he'd been sent to kill. He was so quirky and odd. And, even better, he tried to defend himself. He brought out weapons and aimed them at the Cybertronian. Unfortunately for the fleshling, he didn't even bother to fire. He just shouted some strange nonsense before the Decepticon removed the defense and sent him through two layers of glass. The fact that he failed to attempt to attack, even while armed, made the avian-like being wonder about his latest victim's intelligence. Not that it mattered now that his squishy little brain was smeared everywhere.

But Witwicky was here too. And Jerry gave the boy something before he died. He might deny it, but Laserbeak could recognize a lie when he heard it from the now-dead human. If he killed the fleshling, the same pathetic organic that temporarily killed Megatron, there would almost certainly be a reward for him. Their leader hated the boy completely and utterly; he wanted the insect dead.

Firing into the utter chaos the former room, the humans screamed and scurried around in a panic. So many targets, so many victims, and yet the one he was trying slaughter was so far unharmed. The avian-like Cybertronian tried to follow, knocking aside any fleshlings that got in the way and not caring if they were killed by the impact, but the boy was becoming harder to track. He was out of sight, the noise was too great to track his footsteps, and all the organics in the building made following his particular heat signature pointless. Within a few moments, he had to admit that he'd lost his target.

Well, at least he killed Jerry Wang. That was who he came to eliminate. Perhaps he'd have the opportunity to kill him later.

* * *

Starscream had found a building away from anyone to let her out while they waited for his friend. Annabelle didn't know where they were, but it had a bathroom. A smelly one, but she didn't complain about how dirty it was. She remembered Wheelie's advice to her. She said nice things about Starscream, said he was better than Megatron, and tried to do what they wanted her to. And she kept watching the Decepticon. If he stopped paying attention too long, she would try running again.

Starscream had transformed, so she knew they were really far away from any other people. He looked kind of funny and triangle-shaped, but she didn't say that. He acted like he was ignoring her and everything else since he tossed her out of the seat, but she knew he wasn't. He was keeping an eye out for anyone coming. She didn't want to be close to the red-eyed robot, so she stayed inside the old building while they waited.

The building was really messy and had lots of broken windows. It didn't even have a door anymore. There were lots of broken glass bottles, brown ones, scattered around. She had to be careful of broken glass and garbage so she didn't get a scratch. Mommy wasn't here to put a band-aid on it. And Ratchet wasn't there to use long words to describe her boo-boo as he fixed it. She didn't think that a bad robot would want to kiss it and make it better if she _did_ get hurt.

Inside, somebody had made a campfire inside a big metal can a long time ago. Standing on a cinderblock beside the metal can, she could pull herself up to see that it was black and ashy inside. She wondered why someone would go camping here, but quickly dismissed the mystery to poke around the place some more.

When it started getting dark and she started getting hungry, she wandered back outside to ask Starscream if she could have dinner. He had glared at her and asked how she expected him to "procure her nourishment since they were attempting to maintain a low profile." When she realized he wouldn't be giving her any food, she ended up curled up in a cardboard box she found inside, still hungry, and crying herself to sleep.

She wanted to be brave. She wanted to be a big girl and not show the bad robot that she was scared. She wanted to be a hero like Daddy and Ironhide.

But she _was_ scared. She was scared, hungry, tired, and alone. She wanted Mommy to give her a hug and tuck her into her bed. She wanted Daddy to tell her that he was so proud of her for standing up to the bad robot and protecting Mommy. She wanted Ironhide to beat up the Decepticon and make her feel safe. She wanted to go home and for everything to go back to the way things used to be.

Annabelle's sleep was uneasy and she could not remain asleep for long. Nightmares of red, staring eyes and shadowy shapes haunted her, though she could not escape them when she woke. The monsters followed her from her dreams, waiting as a transformed jet outside the old building. By morning, she was shivering from the cooler air, the wet dew that formed on her arms, and the fact that she was still scared and alone.

"Human, come out here," Starscream's voice abruptly ordered.

Creeping out of her box, she walked towards the gaping hole where the door used to be. The triangular Decepticon watched her with, his scary red eyes never leaving her.

About to ask what he wanted, she suddenly realized she could hear a car coming. For a moment, she hoped that it was Ironhide coming to rescue her. He and Daddy fought bad robots, there was a bad robot right in front of her, and they showed up to save her before. It made sense. And even if it wasn't Ironhide, it might be another Autobot. Maybe Bumblebee, Sideswipe, Jolt, Ratchet, or one of the new ones, like Wheeljack or Mirage. Or maybe even Optimus. She'd even be happy to see one of the twins, regardless of how silly and tricky as they usually acted. She felt almost positive it was someone there to rescue her.

But then she saw him. It was a police car that was heading towards her and Starscream. A familiar police car that had no driver.

Barricade.


	5. Strong Emotions

In all the time he had served under Optimus, Ironhide had never even once considered the possibility of disobeying a direct order. Sure, he might use "slightly" excessive force on a mission and leave behind an impressive amount collateral damage. He might even somehow manage to destroy a whole moon while taking out Decepticons (it would have blown up anyway…). But if his leader gave a direct order, he would follow it to the letter or go off-line in the process.

But just this once, just this _one_ time, he was extremely tempted to completely ignore what Optimus had just told him. It wasn't because he was any less loyal than before. Ironhide would follow him anywhere. And, a distant and less emotional part of him, understood Optimus' reasoning. But a larger portion of the weapon specialist wished that his leader was physically in front of him so that he could express his displeasure with his orders personally. Instead, Ironhide was taking out his frustration on the indoor target range.

As someone who cared deeply for all life, including humanity in general and certain humans specifically, Optimus was just as unhappy about Annabelle's abduction as the rest of them. But between the attack by Shockwave, rediscovering the Ark and his long-lost mentor, Sentinel Prime, and now Annabelle… he had too many variables to deal with. He couldn't use all of their resources to find her, no matter how much any of them might personally care for the child. The Decepticons were up to something and they couldn't afford to divide our forces too much. And they didn't even have a direction to start looking in, unlike when Barricade found her. Optimus' solution was to send out a small group of Autobots to sweep the areas that weren't covered by energon detectors, moving outwards from Washington D.C. until they either found some sign of the girl, Decepticon, or any kind of lead. Quite possibly, they would keep going until they swept the whole country. Or the whole planet. Ironhide would not stop until she was found. But he'd been ordered to stay at the base.

He _understood_ why Optimus would do this. He knew that, even if he was technically closer to being Will's guardian, everyone could see that he was closer to viewing Annabelle as his primary charge. He respected Will as a soldier and an individual, but… the girl was special. And with her in danger, he would not be concerned with restraint or subtlety of any type. An upset Ironhide would leave behind a path of destruction that would almost certainly leave the government completely furious. He knew it and Optimus knew it. That was why it would be better for the trigger-happy weapon specialist to not be driving around the countryside in search of her; the collateral damage caused during the worried search would be too great.

Ironhide would be the first to admit that, when he first came to the Earth, he had not been as instantly fond of humanity as Optimus and Bumblebee (who retained that affection for the species even after what Sector Seven did to him). He'd even suggested blowing up Sam's parents when they were being a hindrance; not out of malice, but simply because the pair were causing problems and they were in a hurry. He began to feel mildly more enthusiastic after meeting Will, but it wasn't until he took the soldier home that he began to truly feel that he could call this planet home.

He remembered how Will had tried to explain to Sarah, to prepare her to meet her first Autobot and yet she still didn't quite grasp the full-extent of what that meant until the black truck her husband arrived in transformed into his biped form. She'd been stunned, slightly afraid, and obviously aware of how clearly out-matched she was, but it only took a moment for the strong-willed woman to adapt. Glaring at the Cybertronian armed with cannons far larger than her entire body, she swiftly informed him that as long as he was not a threat to her husband or child, she would be happy to get to know him. In the same breath, she warned him that if he should ever even _think_ of hurting her family, she would make certain that he suffered greatly. If Will, a trained warrior with battle experience, impressed the mech, then the woman, defenseless and no obvious sign of combat skills, stunned him. Somehow, her voice conveyed enough of a threat that Ironhide had no doubt that she would accomplish that goal. He began to feel that humanity did have something to offer if such a docile-appearing being could strike a sense of fear in the Autobot.

And then, Will and Sarah brought out the youngest member of their family. The woman was still nervous about bringing her offspring near the large Cybertronian, but the infant herself didn't seem at all concerned. Ironhide remembered the small figure, wrapped up protectively in her father's arms for the first time, staring at him with her excited blue eyes. While he had seen her when Sarah and Will first reunited, before the woman learned the truth about the black vehicle, but this was the first time she looked at him. The infant, Annabelle, laughed happily at the sight of the deadly Autobot warrior in front of her. And, somehow, that small sound was all that he needed to hear to feel that he could be happy on Earth.

She was so innocent, so untouched by the horrors of war and optimistic about the world. He'd been fighting for so long, even by the standards of the long-lived Cybertronians, that he'd almost forgotten that there was something besides life on the battlefield. He could see now how Bumblebee could feel so protective and could care so much for Sam. And now he could see this infant, this small sparkling that laughed cheerfully with no knowledge of the concepts of evil or violence, looking at him and he couldn't imagine letting her learn of such cruel topics. Ironhide, the mech that never seemed to be satisfied unless he was on the battlefield, wanted nothing more than to hear her laugh again, to see her smile, and to keep her safe. Annabelle was something infinitely precious and he knew he would guard her against any threat.

As she grew, learned to walk and talk, and started to wander further away from her mother's protective gaze, she demonstrated that she was a bright and sweet child who tried to go out of her way to make those around her happy. She would seek him out; she wanted to spend her every spare moment with him. He would do anything for her. He knew she was Will and Sarah's daughter, but he always felt like and treated her as if she was his own youngling.

And now she was gone. Annabelle was in the possession of Decepticons. Even if they found her, how greatly would she be harmed by the experience? Not just physical damage. Would she still be that sweet girl he knew so well or would they break that innocence that made her so special? She shouldn't be subjected to whatever cruelty that her captors were capable of. He couldn't stand the idea of his Annabelle being forced to learn the true horrors that the Decepticons were capable of.

And since he was ordered not to be a member of the search party, he would have to wait. He would have to hope that those sent to look, the triplets, the twins (what was Optimus thinking?), and Jolt could find her before it was too late.

Firing a final shot, Ironhide looked up and noticed the extremely large berth that everyone was giving him. The mech glared at them; haven't they ever seen someone doing target practice before? Of course, judging by the damage being done to the wall behind the targets, he might be overdoing the blasting _slightly_ …

* * *

Annoyed with that miserable excuse for a Decepticon, Starscream, and wondering what disgusting human was deemed worthy enough to be guarded by them, and for what purpose, Barricade drove to the coordinates provided. Just because that troublesome, cowardly flier was considered Megatron's Second-in-Command, he had the audacity to order the police car-shaped Cybertronian around. He had half a processor to ignore the summons or even dispose of the filthy organic at the first opportunity. Unfortunately, he was still mildly in trouble for not even appearing for the battle in Egypt and Starscream had confirmed that their glorious leader wished to keep the fleshling in case they needed to demonstrate its continued survival to the Autobots. Why they would need to use the human at all was just another question that Barricade did not have the answer for.

But for some reason, as he pulled up to the abandoned building and caught sight of Starscream and the small human hostage, warnings started going off in his processor. He didn't realize immediately understand why he was so concerned by what he saw, but as he compared the young female to his memory of all humans he considered important enough to remember (a very short list), Barricade realized that he was looking at the same human that caused Ironhide to react so strongly. She was slightly older, but the features were still easily recognizable

Oh slag.

Why was she here? And, more importantly, how close was the Autobot weapon specialist?

"Why am I supposed to keep an optic on this human?" Barricade asked as soon as he transformed, pointing at the small human who was staring back at him silently.

"Because I said so," answered Starscream. "This is the daughter of Lieutenant Colonel William Lennox, that troublesome fleshling that often works with Ironhide. Our _glorious_ leader," a hint of sarcasm slipping into his tone, "wishes for someone to watch her until we no longer need her. Surely you can accomplish that much?"

The child of Ironhide's charge? The young organic was the child of Ironhide's charge? No wonder he reacted so strongly to a threat to her before. And now, he was supposed to remain in possession of the human?

Slag.

"Why?" he couldn't help asking, knowing that simply being near the insect would be all that was necessary to invite the weapon specialist's wrath and he'd rather not face that again without back-up. It had taken months to get over the damage last time and he'd refused to share information about the confusing child's presence. She, and Ironhide's extreme fury, was an encounter he was trying to forget and avoid repeating. The mech had promised to off-line the Decepticon painfully and permanently if ever come into close contact with that particular organic again. Barricade wanted more than anything to believe that he was not stuck with that same fleshling again. He wanted to believe that he was not about to repeat history and be added to the temperamental Autobot's hit-list. "Why do we need _her_?"

"Distraction," stated the flier smugly before transforming and leaving the frustrated Decepticon and young female human behind.

Slag it all to the Pit.

"I remember you," she stated nervously, staring up at the Decepticon uneasily. "You tried to scare me and Carl. And then Ironhide, Daddy, and their friends showed up and beat you up."

Guessing that the other small human she'd been with at the time was "Carl," Barricade had to acknowledge that her simplistic explanation of their last encounter was fairly accurate. Though, he had planned to do more than simply "scare" the underdeveloped organics at the time. He wanted a hostage, a way to escape from the barricade of soldiers, and the pair of small humans had seemed ideal at the time. But the female had refused to react predictably and the situation had gotten progressively worse from there. Now, he wanted nothing more than to never see the insect again.

Sounding mildly bolder when he did not immediately start bellowing at her like the last time, she took a step forward and remarked, "Won't Ironhide be really, really mad at you again? Since you are here with me?"

"Highly probable," he answered gruffly, still wondering how he was going to survive that encounter and wishing that Starscream never contacted him.

"Maybe… you could," she started cautiously, "take me back? Maybe he won't… be too mad… if you take me back to him? Please?"

The Decepticon took a step forward, intending to berate the fleshling for the audacity of the suggestion. She stumbled backwards, displaying more caution and fear than their first encounter, but she'd apparently been held captive for over a day already and was likely more timid because that experience. But, after a second, she stepped forward again and gave him a stubborn glare of her own.

"You can tell your boss it was an accident, that they stole me back from you, but you could just take me to Ironhide and Daddy in Washington D.C.," she explained. "That way, he won't blast you with his cannon. And I could go home."

As much as it pained Barricade to admit it, but as he considered her idea, he could tell it might have merit. No one would blame him if he claimed the Autobots managed to retrieve her; they were _supposed_ to be distracted by her absence and attempting to find her. And it would take time to transport her to Washington D.C. without being detected ahead of time. He knew how dangerous it was to use this particular insect as leverage and the entire Decepticon faction would be better off without her around. Surely by that time, any use that she could serve as a distraction would be over? And if that was true, he could be rid of the child and hopefully prevent the weapon specialist from dismantling him.

Transforming back into his vehicle and activating the hologram driver, the Decepticon opened the back door and snarled, "Get in."

* * *

Why was it that he had grown so used to operating in a state of near panic? Why could he think so clearly and decide on a plan of action when his very existence was in danger? Why was it that, even while feeling irrational and terrified, he could act in a semi-reasonable manner?

Oh, that's right. It was because Sam had been in danger off and on since his junior year of high school.

Escaping from the steel condor that attacked his work place, the dark-haired boy managed to make his way back home. As soon as Mikaela walked in the door, he grabbed her and the pair of alien refugees that lived with them, and drove towards the only place equipped to deal with these types of problems. He had information, vital information that Jerry was apparently willing to die for, that needed to be shared with those in power. He needed to give it to the Autobots and Lennox. Something important was going on and he had to help them.

Using "the replacement," Sam drove for the NEST base in Washington D.C. Even if the building claimed to be the "Department of Health and Human Services," he knew that he was at the right place. Besides, he would love to know what in the world could be valuable and/or dangerous enough for a health department to protect with armed guards.

He pulled up, rolled down the window of the vehicle, and immediately started babbling, "We got an emergency, you got to get Colonel Lennox out here. I'm reporting Decepticons, Deceptions are back, you gotta open that gate right now."

"Easy sir, this is Heath and Human services."

Unfortunately, the guards chosen had no ability to think for themselves. Not only did they deny that this was NEST, but they apparently did not notice or care that he'd just said the _Decepticons_ were back. Shouldn't they be more concerned by that? Wasn't evil, murderous Cybertronians attacking private citizens at their place at work a _slightly_ bigger problem than keeping up their rather weak cover story?

"Right, packing M4's? What are you protecting? Colostomy bags? Bed pans? Throat lozenges? Where'd you get that hat from? Nursing school? So you're nurses and foot powder protectors, fantastic!" he ranted.

Okay, insulting them and their precious cover story might have been a little dumb. Pointing out that armed guards were not exactly the sort of thing you need for a place the keeps colostrums and bedpans was not the way to win them over. Getting upset when the guy in a uniform hit his car, as much a piece of junk as it was, probably did not help them believe that he and Mikaela needed to be taken seriously either. But he'd had a rough day. Almost getting killed by giant crazy robots tended to lead directly to smart-alecky remarks and panicked babbling. He knew this from experience.

But he didn't have time to deal with this nonsense. Sam exchanged a brief look with his girlfriend. She nodded to his silent question. If they wouldn't take them serious and get someone in charge to talk to them, preferably Lennox since he always treated them with respect, they would have to be a little less "nice" with their asking.

"The replacement" was not the most powerful, the fastest, or even useful for anything besides commuting between work and home, but Sam was going to turn it into their one hope to reach their goal. He hit the accelerator, hoping to make it past the group of armed doormen and pass on the information Jerry gave him.

What he didn't expect was that his actions would result in the yellow piece of junk getting ground to a halt in a fairly damaging way. Angry at the damage to "the replacement" (even if he hated it, he worked hard with his girlfriend to fix it), frustrated by the unmoving attitude of the soldiers guarding the place, still in a panic from the earlier Decepticon attack, and finally out of patience with everything that was currently contributing to his current headache, Sam decided to stop being Mr. Nice Guy.

He heard the guards babbling about "energon readings" and them discovering Wheelie and Brains in the back, but he was focused on one specific target: the radio on the closest man. The dark-haired boy who once killed Megatron dove for it, tackling the guy to the ground with his unexpected move. Grabbing at the radio, he decided to end this.

"Bee, can you hear me? It's Sam. I'm at the gate. Help," he managed to yell before the group of trained soldiers ripped him away.

The young man heard one of the guards complaining that "the girl hit him," which made Sam smile. It was not a good idea to underestimate Mikaela. She was as tough as she was beautiful and did not put up with stupidity.

The man who hit the piece-of-junk vehicle earlier, causing Sam to _possibly_ over-react, had also made some dumb comment about his car. As he heard a swiftly approaching car that quickly turned into the familiar sound of shifting metal, the young man couldn't help smiling somewhat. The rude individual found himself looking at a combat-ready Bumblebee pointing his weapons at those who dared threaten his charge.

" _That's_ my car," Sam remarked smugly as those around him realized that they needed to stop pointing weapons at him and Mikaela.

While he was amazingly happy to finally see his best friend again, he couldn't help complaining a little to the Autobot.

"Come here. Come here!"

Through a quick selection of sound clips, Bumblebee began, "Come on, Sam."

" What is your deal, huh? I know your Black Op stuff is important to you and I'm not trying to diminish it or guilt trip you or anything. I just never see you anymore! You can't come to the garage and hang out just one night?" he asked.

Another quick mixture of movie and song pieces, he replied, "Sam, that makes me feel bad."

"Well, I hope you feel bad. You should feel bad. Look at the jalopy I'm driving now. I feel bad every single day!"

Okay, again, he probably shouldn't be scolding his best friend like this, let alone a giant mech capable of fighting equally large and dangerous mechs and coming out alive, but he couldn't help feeling a little hurt by recent trends. He knew that Bumblebee was busy, off saving the world and everything, but he missed him. The young man felt that surely there were opportunities for the Cybertronian to come by the place every now and then to at least see them. He had grown used to having his friend around in the past and missed him.

As he spoke to Bumblebee about his concerns about not seeing him, he distantly noticed the soldiers finally seeming to get with the program and decide to bring them inside. Help save the world twice and he's rewarded with this much trouble from people he was trying to warn? What was NEST coming to?

"You're fixing my car, by the way," he commented as he passed the unfortunate guard who caused him so much trouble. When he was met with a look of disbelief, he added, "You think I'm joking?"

* * *

A blue motorcycle drove along the back roads in the dark, her sensors straining to detect some sign of Decepticons. Somewhere, out there, was a little girl. A sweet girl who trusted the Autobots with all her heart and needed to be rescued. Chromia knew her sisters were searching as well for the child, as were Mudflap, Skids, and Jolt. Someone had to find her. There had to be a sign of where she'd been taken.

She liked Annabelle. She really thought that the youngling, with that combination of kindness and love of adventure, was a wonderful human that deserved better than whatever fate might be waiting for her at the servos of the Decepticons.

And she needed to find Annabelle soon for more than just the girl's sake. Her father had been horrified to learn of kidnapping, though he tried to conceal the true extent of his pain beneath his training, and she had heard the terrified weeping of her mother over the phone. Ironhide had gone straight to fury at the news that the young human he treasured so much had been stolen away; attacking the target range like each blast was against his most hated enemy.

But Chromia could see he was more than angry at the Decepticons. He was frustrated and upset that he hadn't been there to protect her, he was annoyed that he couldn't go look for her himself, and worried that he would never see her again alive. Ironhide, who would never admit to being afraid of anything, was completely and undeniably terrified of the idea of her being harmed. The mech loved Annabelle like she was his own youngling.

Even if Chromia didn't care for the girl herself and wanted to save her, which she did, she would have volunteered to do so just to help Ironhide. The mech could be so blind to something right in front of him, especially if it did not have to deal with combat. She was just as enthusiastic about fighting as him at times, but that didn't mean that she ignored everything else in the universe. If she thought about it, having Annabelle around to remind him that there was a life beyond the battlefield was probably the best thing that ever happened to him. At least, until he lost her.

She hated seeing him like this. So, the femme intended to search every inch of this planet to find Annabelle. Not only because she'd grown to love the youngling herself, but because she knew what the human meant to the weapon specialist. She would do anything to keep that battle-eager Autobot happy. Even if he was too oblivious to realize that Annabelle wasn't the only female who cared for him.


	6. Hidden Information

It had been a long day. Annabelle had found a quarter in her pocket, along with a crayon stub and her phone, and found another quarter on the sidewalk when Barricade let her out at a rest stop (after saying he would "punish" her if she tried to run away). She used the coins to buy a bag of chips after experimenting a little to see which of the items in the snack machine she could afford. She also drank some water out of a water fountain. But that was all she'd eaten since Laserbeak grabbed her. It wasn't really a good breakfast or lunch, but she had been hungry. She still was, but she didn't think it would be a good idea to complain. If Barricade was scared enough of Ironhide being mad that he would take her to Daddy and her favorite Cybertronian, she would try to be quiet and wait. She could get something to eat when she got there.

The Decepticon had been quiet, only confirming that they were heading towards Washington D.C. and to threaten her into good behavior. Since he'd said they were going the way she wanted, she was mildly hopeful that things might be improving and she'd be back with her family and friends soon.

They hadn't been on the highway much though. He'd been using curvy roads, sometimes passing by farms. He was trying to be sneaky and make sure that no one important saw him. Probably meant it was taking a longer time, but she didn't have a choice.

His hologram, one of those fake cool light things that looked real, sat perfectly rigid and never looked anywhere except straight ahead. It looked like a human, but it wasn't solid and the Cybertronian didn't need it to drive or look around. It was just supposed to make the car look normal.

She was in the back seat, away from the hologram. If she wiggled too much, Barricade would tighten the seatbelt a little in warning. He didn't like her, but he wasn't being as scary and mean as last time. Ironhide probably scared him too much.

It was getting dark again, meaning she would be stuck with the Decepticons for another night. On the bright side, the back seat of the bad robot was warmer and softer than the box. And the rumble of an engine, even if it sounded completely different than Ironhide's, was somehow a little familiar and soothing. Or she was just too tired and hungry to care. Maybe, when she woke up, she would be safe finally.

* * *

Rubbing her knuckles slightly from where she hit one of the guards that had become a little too grabby in her opinion, Mikaela followed Sam as he closed the distance between him and Lennox. Both she and her dark-haired boyfriend knew that time was always of the essence when the Decepticons chose to interfere in their lives. But as they neared the soldier they knew so well, she saw something that caught her attention. He looked… tired. Tired and disheartened. Something beyond a robotic bird attacking Sam and whatever conspiracy thing that he'd tried to explain on the way over was going on.

Her boyfriend, however, was still in his frantic emergency mode and didn't see anything unusual about the man's expression. He was already pulling out a handful of folded news articles and notes, intending to hand it over to one of the few people they could trust to use it wisely. The dark-haired young woman briefly debated whether or not to ask Lennox about whatever was wrong, but ultimately decided to wait. A few minutes' wait won't kill her.

As Sam explained that there was something important going on, the reaction of surprise wasn't in response to the fact something was going on with the moon; it was in response to the fact they knew about it. Both she and Sam realized that Lennox was already somewhat aware of the conspiracy.

For the next several minutes, she was hit with information overload and a pain-in-the-neck government agent. A long-lost Prime, the mentor to Optimus once upon a time, recovered from a crashed ship on the moon and soon to be reawakened. About five large cylinder or pillar-like things brought back, whose purpose was yet unknown to humanity. And, unfortunately, an annoying bespectacled woman who acted mildly like Simmons upon their first encounter and was upset about top secret information being shared with the young adults who were technically out of the chain of command, started tossing out random statements about how, if they said a word about what they saw, they "would do time for treason." It may have been more threatening if both of them hadn't heard similar warnings before. And Mikaela couldn't help feeling fairly proud of her boyfriend when he met that woman's gaze firmly and informed her that he only took orders from Optimus.

How much had been happening under their nose? Did the fact that they had already been to the moon, and brought back a large red new ally no less, mean that their rush to come over might have been meaningless? Or perhaps not. How far did this extend? Was there something else going on?

As Sentinel, the other Autobots, and that Mearing woman discuss exactly what else was brought from the ship, a system to provide teleportation that could only be used by their newest mech, she couldn't help wondering what took the Decepticons so long to make a move. Did they not realize the Ark was up there after all this time? Weren't they the ones who hacked into Sector Seven and figured out that Megatron was frozen there? Shouldn't there have been some minor note about a crashed alien space craft that was discovered when the first astronauts reached the moon in all that info or were the government people just _that_ bad at sharing intel within the departments? Mikaela didn't think it was over yet and, glancing at her boyfriend, Sam was equally sure that things weren't quite fixed just because they delivered a few pages.

When Mearing brought the pair to her office, the woman continued to annoy the mechanically-inclined young lady. Honestly, "paperwork separates us from the animals"? Is there any shred of normality in this bureaucratic nightmare of a person? And she seemed to have a real problem with the term "ma'am." She was still trying to just shrug off any warning they brought, as if the fact they had been involved with the Cybertronians since the beginning and Sam had been helping save the world since high school meant nothing.

When Sam tried to defend himself to her, by pointing out all that he'd done, that woman had the gall to look at Mikaela's boyfriend with such a dismissive expression and informed him, "You are not a soldier. You are a messenger. You've always been a messenger."

It took all of her self-control, earned through endless practice dealing with rude customers, not to react to that insult to her boyfriend. She'd like to see this paper-pushing woman run through explosions to protect the Cube, face down Megatron, or risk his life to save Optimus. In fact, she'd love to see Mearing double-team a Decepticon with Bumblebee using a tow truck or run over that creepy metal girl who was hitting on her guy in his dorm room.

Taking her Sam's hand with hers, Mikaela gave the blond woman a fake smile and remarked, "Well, thanks for listening _so_ well." Her tone was dripping with sarcasm, "After all, any important information about the Decepticons must be taken serious since it could be vital, and _not_ immediately ignored because it was brought by someone who isn't in your chain of command. Have a nice night, _ma'am_."

"Don't call me 'ma'am.' I am…"

"Yes, you are a 'ma'am.' You're a woman, you're not married, so you're a 'ma'am,'" she interrupted, walking out the door with her world-saving boyfriend. "Get used to it."

As they drew out of earshot, Sam leaned over and whispered, "That was so hot, 'Kaela. You can fight my battles anytime you like."

"I'll remember that," she smirked. As she caught sight of a familiar face again, she pulled on his arm, "Come on. I need to ask Lennox something."

"You mean the one man in this entire place that actually _listens_ to us?" asked Sam, following. "Sure."

She marched over to Lennox, more certain than before that something was deeply wrong. There was an almost tangible aura of sadness around him. A newly-arrived Autobot and a new technology could not explain that feeling, nor would the threat of Decepticons on the move again. There was at least one more piece of the puzzle that no one was telling them.

"Colonel Lennox," she began formally, uncertain how to approach the topic. She knew him fairly well from the times that she'd baby-sat for Annabelle, not to mention the times that she and Sam became tangled in another world-saving venture, but somehow she felt uncomfortable about what she was about to ask. She'd probably have to blame Mearing for that discomfort. That woman needed to lighten up. "What is going on? What aren't you telling us? What's wrong?"

He stared at her silently for a moment before sighing, his entire posture declaring exhaustion and worry, "Annabelle is missing. The Decepticons took her."

* * *

Sam grabbed a soda from the fridge and walked down to Mikaela's shop. Sitting down there, for the first time in months, was Bumblebee. But it wasn't quite as nice as he'd hoped. He could see his best friend, but there was an oppressing atmosphere around them. His guardian was here due to the recent attack, to protect him, but he couldn't protect the young man from his own thoughts.

It was all connected. Everything was connected. The moon, the conspiracy, the assassinations, the kidnapping of Lennox's daughter… There was something connecting them all. If he could untangle it, figure out what the Decepticons wanted, maybe he could help his friends. He could be more than just a "messenger."

Smiling at his yellow companion, Sam reached out his hand and touched him. It felt nice; it felt so calm. Everything felt so peaceful. He could almost pretend that everything was perfectly fine. But he could recognize this silent moment for it was: the calm before the storm.

If that Charlotte Mearing person wouldn't take him serious, he would have to turn to someone else for help. Someone with experience with conspiracies and other secrets, but is not under the command of "Miss Paperwork-Separates-Us-From-The-Animals." Someone who is, honestly, quite likely insane.

* * *

Well, the interview about his book could have gone better, but Simmons knew that there would always be those who make harsh remarks about those with money. He used to make those remarks, after all, before he became rich himself. And he wasn't crazy, no matter what they might say. He was just properly aware of threats and mildly passionate about his old job. But, once he caught word of Charlotte Mearing coming, he made a quick retreat to the relative safety of civilian life and simply _writing_ about his past actions.

His greatest investment with his new-found cash would have to be Dutch. A personal assistant with a rather _unique_ background, he was just what a former-Sector-Seven-agent, former-NEST-member, rich writer needs to live life to the fullest.

Simmons listened to the red-haired man relay a list of important events and memos, but his interest didn't peak until he heard the name "Witwicky." The boy, the alien-trouble magnet, had called several times. Sam did not make social calls to him. That could only mean one thing: it was a call to arms.

One man, alone, abandoned by the country he loves. Now he was their only hope. Again.

* * *

There were planets with more vivid and interesting sunsets and sunrises in the universe. It had been his privilege to observe some of those events. But there was still something rather peaceful and amazing about Earth's. Perhaps it was due to the fact that it was now home. Humanity's phrase of "there's no place like home" seemed all too true and Optimus was happy to share such a planet with them. And he wanted to share this world with his old mentor, Sentinel.

The semi truck and fire engine drove through the unpopulated area, reaching a point where the colorful display could be observed easily without disturbing the locals. It seemed that even Sentinel could appreciate the silence and calm that permeated their surroundings.

Sentinel Prime, the mech who lead the Autobots before him and taught him everything that he believed in, had not changed at all since he was lost to them. Because his ship was damaged and sent to float randomly through space for eons until it crashed onto Earth's moon, he'd missed the final battle for their home planet. He didn't have to witness Cybertron becoming the dead planet it currently was. And he'd missed the countless battles since and the further lives lost. Still, the old mech had enough weight on his shoulders from his own difficult decisions in the past. He still respected Sentinel and all he'd done and stood for. He was truly glad to see his mentor among them again.

"So majestic and peaceful, this planet," the red mech commented before his tone turned regretful. "Unlike the final days on Cybertron."

"I've wondered what might have been, if you had fought the final battle instead of me," remarked Optimus.

"Never mourn the past, young warrior," he advised. "Thanks to you, our race survives."

After a moment's consideration, Optimus brought out the dagger-shaped Matrix of Leadership. If anyone deserved to bear such power, it would have to be Sentinel. He'd been the one who declared that freedom was the right of all beings. He was the one that Optimus had always tried to be like, an example of everything that he believed in. When he took command after the loss of Sentinel, he had wondered if he could ever live up to the great mech's memory. Still, he always did his best to fill that role. And now, he could offer that role back.

Kneeling before his former mentor, he explained, "You were our leader, Sentinel. It is your right to lead us again."

"In a world I do not know?" he asked. He turned down the offered Matrix, "I am no longer your teacher, Optimus. You are mine."

* * *

She didn't want to go. Her shop was closed for the day since she was going to be gone anyway, so the entire space had been taken over by her boyfriend, his transformed car, Wheelie, Brains, Simmons, and some guy she didn't know with an accent named Dutch. She would have loved to stay and helped them, or to simply watch the proceedings since something interesting was bound to happen with this group. Even if Simmons still referred to her occasionally as a "criminal," his particular brand of obsessive insanity had grown on her. He was mostly harmless and generally seemed to agree that the Autobots were the good guys. And, if she wanted to get under his skin, all she had to do was remind the "big-headed joker" that he was out-witted by a child.

Mikaela didn't want to leave, but they needed the income. Sam's job was essentially over since the bird-like Decepticon had trashed the place and his boss, while still alive, was not quite mentally-sound to return to his own employment (though her boyfriend claimed that there wasn't much difference since Brazos was already insane). They needed the money from Dylan Gould's job. She couldn't afford to play hooky and miss work. The best thing she could do to support Sam was to let him and the rest of Mystery Inc. currently using her work space figure out the mystery while she handled the more mundane concerns.

Oddly, part of these "mundane concerns" seemed to be a dinner party. Why in the world Dylan would invite her to that sort of thing, she didn't know. She wrote it off as another of those inappropriate gestures, like the car. She'd initially invited Sam, but with how everything was going… that date was not going to happen. Of course, the idea of her being alone with Dylan in a semi-romantic setting caused him to display a look of jealous. She wasn't surprised; Sam was only human. But, once she'd assured him that this was strictly business related and not personal, he'd finally stopped looking like he was imagining various scenarios of how to dispose of her current employer.

She could overhear Simmons comment, "We've got to break this case down. What we have here is an astronaut epidemic." He tossed down different pictures on the closest surface, explaining, "MIA, dead, died in a car accident, killed, DOA, car death. It's like these guys can't drive. They can fly into outer space but they can't drive a car."

"Sam," she called across to him. "I have my cell phone. If anything happens, anything at all, you can call me. I'll leave immediately to help." She indicated her shoes. Instead of heels, she had on sensible tennis shoes. "I'm wearing flats for the dinner later. I don't want to be running for my life again in heels."

Dashing across the room, weaving between the various tools and equipment scattered around the space, he managed to reach her unharmed and gave her a quick hug, "Be careful, 'Kaela. I don't want you to end up…"

She smiled at him, interrupting his depressing thought, "I'll be fine. If that steel condor tries to show up, I'll use Dylan's nice and shiny new car to run it over."

"A fine end for an inappropriate gift," he grinned, imagining the damage to both the Decepticon and vehicle of such a collision.

"Chill out," remarked Brains. "The girl's got spunk."

"Warrior Goddess can handle anything," added Wheelie supportively. Suddenly, he paused, "Did you say it was 'a steel condor'?"

"Yeah, the freaky bird tried to kill me," Sam confirmed. "And, from what Lennox said, grabbed Annabelle."

"That would be Laserbeak. He's Soundwave's creepy partner. He is both very stealthy and very psychotic," the former Decepticon described. "I suggest avoiding him in the future, Sammy-boy. He'd love to remove your head from your body. Very slowly. Especially since you're the crazy human who decided to kill off Megatron. Of course, he'd love to do it anyway just for the sake of killing."

"So the kid's probably already dead," muttered Brains, resulting in Wheelie smacking the back of "wild-haired" mech's head.

"Shut up," growled the ex-Con, glaring at the transformed laptop. "The Mini-Ironhide will be fine. Probably scared the overgrown parakeet off by herself." He turned his red optics towards Mikaela and gave her a reassuring smile, "Besides, he wouldn't have grabbed her up like that unless they wanted her alive. And if she's alive, then it is only a matter of time before a seriously ticked off weapon specialist tracks her kidnapper down."

"Unfortunately, it doesn't look like Sam is wanted alive," pointed out Brains. "He is wanted very, very dead."

"Joy," the young man muttered.

"I really have to go now or I'll be late, guys. Good luck," called Mikaela, heading for the exit before the small Cybertronians made further discomforting statements.

* * *

Following someone as crazy as Simmons into a location filled with ill-tempered and paranoid Russians, even with a couple of Autobot escorts and that Dutch person, was probably a bad idea. Still, they needed answers and the cosmonauts inside likely had them.

Which meant Sam had to listen to Simmons and Dutch try to use a dictionary to figure out the language. As the cosmonaut explained he spoke English, Simmons insulted his assistant.

"But... It's the Cyrillic... alphabet. It's like all the buttons you never push on the calculator," Dutch tried to explain.

Things swiftly went downhill from there. Once the whole "moon" thing was brought up, the three of them were abruptly facing weapons. Not giant alien weapons. Normal, human-sized weapons that could still kill them very painfully.

Then, the red-haired assistant reacted. He took the gun from a rather attractive and scary woman, resulting in the Russians no longer having the monopoly of weapons. How in the world that Dutch reacted that fast and effective, Sam had no idea. It was like someone flipped a switch that changed the man from "assistant" to "assassin." Of course, that only seemed to make things more stressful and chaotic. The Russians were yelling and Simmons was trying to convince the man to put down the gun. Sam knew that he was very likely about to get shot in the face. How ironic would it be if he was killed by just some random person after he survived attempts by the likes of Megatron?

Slowly, Dutch seemed to calm down, dropped the weapon, and smiled sheepishly, "I am sorry. That is the old me."

Which made Sam wonder what kind of person he was prior to working for Simmons. Of course the crazy and paranoid man would hire someone who was just as psychotic as himself, if in a slightly different way. Why didn't he have sane people to ask for help during Decepticon emergencies?

Oh, right. Sane people run _away_ from giant killer robots. Not towards them with a level of excitement that only obsessed conspiracy people could manage.

As things calmed down, they managed to convince the cosmonauts to help them. Among a few other interesting comments, they showed the three of them a pair of photographs. Very important photographs of the moon that showed Sam an important detail.

The pillars, hundreds of them, had been dragged from the Ark. The Decepticons had the pillars and had been in possession of the things for decades. But they didn't use them. Or _couldn't_. They were missing a vital component to make the space bridge work. Something worth waiting for, worth hiding with assassinations of key humans until they could gain it in the present day. Something they needed the Autobots to get for them.

Sentinel Prime.

They needed Sentinel Prime to be revived so he could operate the space bridge. And Optimus, by using the Matrix, was the only one who could have done so. It was a trap. They were using the Autobots, keeping them distracted from the truth with minor emergencies like Laserbeak attacking him and Annabelle being kidnapped, while providing the bait to ensure they would go to the moon. He could see it perfectly now.

They had to get to and protect Sentinel before the Decepticons could grab him.


	7. A Traitor's True Colors

When her cell phone rang, Charlotte Mearing glanced at the name. She frowned briefly. Why in the world would he even think of calling her? Did that boy not know when to give up?

"Mr. Witwicky, I thought I made it clear to you that I did not want you calling this phone," she stated as soon as she answered.

"Listen, the whole thing has been a set up since the beginning," he replied frantically. "The Decepticons wanted Optimus to find Sentinel because he was the only one who could revive him."

"But we have the space bridge," she remarked dumbly, not quite willing to accept what the young man was telling him; that they had been tricked.

Witwicky corrected, "Mearing, you have _five_ pillars. I just learned that they have hundreds. You're doing exactly what they wanted you to do. What do you need me to say to you? The Decepticons are coming for Sentinel Prime!"

Hundreds? They have hundreds of the pillars? If they gained the ability to use that technology…

Even her intellect faltered when she tried to imagine what the consequences. It would be devastating.

* * *

"Barricade, dispose of the girl," a voice, Starscream's, ordered through the radio. "We no longer need a distraction."

"Understood," acknowledged her captor.

Annabelle looked towards the holographic driver in the front seat, hopefully. Did that mean he would let her go home now? He wouldn't hurt her since he knew Ironhide would be mad at him. So he had to give her back to Daddy and Ironhide now. They had to be close by now, maybe in Washington D.C. even.

"Are you going to call the Autobots so I can go home?" she asked tentatively.

"It is not that simple, insect," he growled at her in annoyance.

The girl thought for a moment. Maybe Barricade didn't know how to call her friends. Maybe bad robots could only call other bad robots. And since she wasn't going to let the Decepticon know about her special phone, he'd have to figure out another way to contact them.

A second later, she had an idea and asked, "Can you only call another Decepticon through your radio? Is that what's wrong?"

"Decepticons and Autobots are generally not friendly enough share com-links," he agreed, sounding rather impatient.

"Call Wheelie," Annabelle suggested. "He used to be a bad robot, but he's a good one now."

"Who?" asked the disguised police car.

"Wheelie," she repeated. "He was supposed to steal something from Mikaela, but she caught him and he decided to change sides because she burned his eye, but was still nicer to him than most."

He was silent for a few minutes before growling, "That stupid little drone. I remember now. Soundwave sent him. That mech always uses small Cybertronians, but that one wasn't even close to one of his favorites. He was an expendable one. I thought he was off-lined a while ago. Instead, it sounds like he's a _traitor_."

"If you call him, he can call Ironhide or Daddy or someone," she explained, trying to ignore how mean he spoke the last word. "And you should be able to call him since he was a Decepticon once."

"Fine, as long as it keeps that weapon specialist from coming after me for vengeance. And I can deliver a warning to that traitor."

* * *

The small, blue Cybertronian tried to convince himself that he wasn't worried as he sat on the sofa watching reruns. He tried to argue to himself that, since he was safe at the shop and the Warrior Goddess was away from anything remotely dangerous, he had no reason to be so anxious.

It wasn't like he cared a bit for that panicky, babbling, Warrior-Goddess-attention-stealing, annoying boy. Nope, not a bit. Even if he did make Mikaela happy. He didn't care that Sammy-boy was running straight into danger again.

And even if he, grudgingly, would admit to liking Annabelle, he was certain she would be fine. She was the Mini-Ironhide, after all. She was braver than any kid her age had any right to be. Even better, she knew how to survive the Decepticons. Wheelie had told her how one night after a nightmare. She'd be fine. If he was going to worry about anyone, he should be worried about Laserbeak for grabbing her. Ironhide might be an Autobot, but that didn't mean he would necessarily be that nice of a guy when he found the Cybertronian that kidnapped her.

He tried to convince himself that he wasn't worried. He tried to recapture that old Decepticon mindset of "if it doesn't directly concern or threaten me, I don't care," but he was failing miserably. He'd spent too much time around these guys and they were growing on him. Granted, Sam was growing on him like an unwanted fungus, but Wheelie knew he'd miss having the boy around to pester. Half the fun of snuggling up to Mikaela, besides getting close to his Warrior Goddess, was to see the spastic boy's reaction.

Abruptly, his musing about how he was trying not to be worried and failing miserably was ended in a rather unpleasant fashion. A part of his processor that he'd never expected to activate again suddenly connected and a voice came across his com-link.

"Salvage drone. Designation: Wheelie," snarled a malevolent voice. "Respond."

Oh slag, slag, slag, _slag_. That wasn't an Autobot. He knew instantly that he was hearing a Decepticon. Only a member of his old faction would connect to that particular part of his processor. Which means that someone out there knew he was alive, that he'd switched sides, and that he was essentially a traitor to the Decepticons. Oh slag.

Wheelie was going into a state of pure panic. If he was human, he'd undoubtedly be suffering a heart attack from the stress and fear. Traitors were not tolerated by them. They would hunt him down and off-line him permanently. And it wouldn't be a quick end. The Decepticons would make him suffer. They would drag the entire thing out, make an example of him. Perhaps turn him over to Soundwave and his cretins. Soundwave was an expert at handling smaller Cybertronians, which meant he knew the best way to cause them pain without off-lining them too soon. The details of how they killed him didn't matter because he was doomed.

"You okay over there?" asked Brains, glancing across the couch towards the other small Cybertronian. He could see how anxious that the ex-Con had turned, but was still unaware of the true nature of Wheelie's growing panic. The "wild-haired" being didn't hear the Decepticon's voice across the com-link, didn't realize that the blue Minicon was trying to deal with the fact he was going to be destroyed soon. All he knew was that Wheelie wasn't acting like himself. "You're looking a little… freaked out."

The transformed toy waved off the question, ignoring Brains. He was a little busy dealing with pure terror. He knew it was foolish, but he wished that his Warrior Goddess was here to protect him. She was brave and wonderful. Somehow, he felt that his favorite human might actually be able to keep him from suffering whatever fate the Decepticons might devise.

On the other servo, he was a little relieved that she wasn't here. Mikaela was truly a Warrior Goddess as far as he was concerned, but she was also human. She was a vulnerable human that could easily be killed by his Cybertronian brethren. And Wheelie didn't want that. If he had to suffer for choosing to stay with her and the Autobots, at least he wanted her to be safe.

"Wheelie, respond immediately," the voice snapped, sounding angrier and more impatient than before.

Cringing slightly at the tone and the memories of his time among the Decepticons, the small Cybertronian mumbled across his com-link, "Acknowledged."

"This is Barricade. I have just learned of your… _desertion_ ," growled the voice. He didn't personally know this Decepticon, but Wheelie knew of his reputation. He'd been the first one to attack Sam, the one who was partnered with Frenzy until the hyper being's demise, and he once made the mistake of attacking Annabelle. He was disguised as a police vehicle. And, apparently, the one who would deliver his punishment for changing sides. "You have joined with the Autobot forces, have been allowed to learn their secrets, and have the capability to contact them directly. You will do as I command, drone."

Oh, he was in real trouble. He wanted him to spy on the Autobots. He just knew it. He wanted the small Cybertronian to pass along information in exchange for his life. Barricade would keep his betrayal silent if he worked for him. His existence depended on him providing the Decepticon with whatever Barricade wanted, regardless of the cost to the Autobots and their allies. The smartest move would be to go along with the demand, buy himself some time and survive for a little longer, and hope that he found some way out of the situation at a later date.

But Wheelie couldn't do that. He'd worked hard to earn the trust of the Autobots after he joined them. His Warrior Goddess vouched for him, telling them that he was truly on their side and would never work for the Decepticons again. He couldn't betray that trust. He couldn't betray _her_. What if something he told that demented police car ended up harming her or her stupid boyfriend?

He was a cowardly little drone that knew that he only manage to survive this long by following the orders of anyone larger than him and running away. He was a pathetic Cybertronian; no one had any reason to risk their neck for him and he'd never had a reason to risk his own. He had always had to take care of himself. But things were different now. He was finished letting those freaking Decepticons push him around. They would end up killing him anyway, now or when he stopped providing useful information. He might as well do the right thing this time. He would protect his Warrior Goddess any way he could from them. Even if it was just by letting them dismantle him painfully and end his short miserable existence rather than help his old faction.

"I don't know if you missed this important detail, but I'm kind of on the Autobot side now," Wheelie remarked, trying to sound snarky instead of scared stiff. "That means I listen to Optimus Prime, my Warrior Goddess, but I do not listen to _you_. I'm not doing your dirty work, Barricade. Pick on someone else to be your spy. Because I _won't_ do it."

"Silence, traitorous salvage drone," he growled harshly, silencing the tiny Cybertronian. "I need you to pass on a message to the Autobots. I have something of theirs. You will tell them where to find it and I will spare your pathetic life until the next time I see you. And when I do see you next, your demise will be _agonizingly_ slow for what you've done."

Torn between suspicion and the mild hope that he might actually be okay, at least until the next time, the ex-Con asked slowly, "What exactly do you have?"

"Their precious organic pet. The one whose designation is Annabelle Lennox."

Wheelie was hit with equal amounts of shock and relief. The kid was alive by the sounds of it. Even better, Barricade was planning to give her back. Of course, that raised the question of why they wanted her in the first place. Apparently that purpose was complete or else they wouldn't be releasing her, but what _was_ that purpose? Why did they take Mini-Ironhide?

Why Barricade would return her instead of eliminating her was an easier mystery to explain. No one in their right processor would want to tick off Ironhide. He was bad enough against Decepticons normally, but it was far worse to make things personal. No one wanted the weapon specialist to have a vendetta against them.

"Where are you leaving her?" asked Wheelie.

* * *

Chromia had been hoping for a clue for some time by now, but never expected it from this particular source.

"I know where Annabelle is," shouted Wheelie over the com-link, "and you're the closest to her."

The blue motorcycle halted abruptly at the unexpected contact and the even more surprising news. The child had been located.

"Where?" she asked quickly.

The ex-Con quickly passed on the coordinates, causing the bike to perform an illegal U-turn and speed through a stop light. A few traffic laws were about to be broken. She'd be careful not to cause any accidents in the process, but she was in a hurry. There was a little girl who had been lost for too long already.

* * *

Racing down the road with Deceptions in hot pursuit was a far too familiar experience. Fleeing from giant robots that were sometimes vehicles was simply a part of his life. He'd already learned a long time ago that trying to be normal would never work and he wasn't even sure that he really would be happy being normal anymore. Not that he was happy with the idea that several Decepticons were trying to grab Sentinel. Still, this adrenaline rush and panic mode he was experiencing was something Sam knew well by this point.

So far, Bumblebee, Mirage, and Sideswipe were doing a fairly effective job of discouraging them. Sam's guardian had transformed about half way so that he could fire at them while the other two alternated between vehicle and robot forms in order to keep their pursuers at bay. Simmons and Dutch had fallen back a while ago, crashed. Sam didn't see if they were okay, but he hoped for the best. Simmons was too crazy to die and Dutch was too awesome to die. If he was going to worry about someone's survival, he should probably be more concerned about his own life. With him inside, Bumblebee couldn't transform and that meant both of them were more likely to get hurt.

A second later, his assumption about Bee not being able to transform currently was utterly destroyed. Sam found himself flying through the air helplessly as his guardian transformed and flung them both over a crashing vehicle. He discovered a whole new level of panic in those precious seconds, screaming frantically. Then, Bumblebee transformed back around him and the young man was left sitting unharmed in his seat again. It did take a little bit of time to stop scream hysterically and realize that he was mildly safe again. Or at least as safe as he was going to get during a chase across Washington D.C. while protecting Sentinel from the Decepticons.

He just hoped that Bee never, ever did that again.

* * *

"Get out," Barricade ordered, pulling up to a corner and opening his door.

Cautiously, Annabelle slid off her seat and stepped out. She didn't know where she was, but she'd heard the Decepticon talking to Wheelie. Someone was going to come and get her soon.

"Stay here, human. The Autobots should be here shortly," the vehicle growled. "And I hope that I never have to see you again."

Not knowing what else to say, but deciding to be polite, she mumbled, "Thank you for calling them, Barricade. Good-bye."

The disguised Cybertronian did not answer her. He just drove off, leaving her behind. She watched the police car until it was out of sight. Then, glancing left and right to see if there was anyone else close by, she pulled out her cell phone.

"Ironhide," she stated carefully, having the device connect to her favorite Autobot.

* * *

A Decepticon driving straight towards him. After everything that he'd endured in the last few days, Ironhide would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't in vehicle mode. He could handle this. Having a real target, something he could blast into a shower of metal fragments, was probably the best thing for him. You can only fire in frustration at a stationary target range for so long. A live victim to fight would be a wonderful stress relief.

The black truck collided with the other disguised Cybertronian at high speed. They both transformed in midair immediately after they crashed. Ironhide landed easily, ready for more.

As another Decepticon and Sideswipe joined them, the weapon specialist smirked, "Is there a problem?"

Abruptly, his com-link activated, "Ironhide."

The familiar voice completely grabbed the Autobots attention, though he kept the reaction off his expression and kept his weapons trained on his targets. Still, he cautiously answered the contact.

"Annabelle? Are you all right?"

The young girl's relieved voice spilled out quickly, "Ironhide, I missed you. The Decepticons stole me and I went from Laserbeak to Starscream to Barricade. And I heard them says something, in Cybertronian, about an Autobot traitor and a Prime, not Optimus Prime, but a word I don't know. And it sounded really important."

Any other time, he'd reassure her that everything would be okay now and ask her what happened. But he was a little preoccupied by having a pair of Decepticons in front of him and didn't need to be distracted.

Thus, as soon as she paused in her frantic description, he stated, "I can't talk now, but I am glad you are safe."

Understanding he was busy, she answered, "Okay, Ironhide… Oh, I see Chromia. Love you. See you soon."

At the same time she was speaking over his com-link, Sideswipe was commenting, "Whoa, we got us a little Mexican standoff."

"Weapons down," commanded the transformed truck.

"And we'll let you escape with your dignity," his fellow Autobot added, watching the pair intently.

Of course, the Decepticons chose not to take the easy route. A little trickery, however, was not enough to win. Without much effort, Sideswipe and the weapon specialist removed their opponents from the situation. Permanently.

"Class dismissed," Ironhide commented smugly. "Decepticon punks."

* * *

The blue motorcycle felt a Decepticon at the edge of her sensor range, but it was moving away as quickly as it could it seemed. She could have followed, but she had more important things to worry about it. All the Autobots were supposed to fall back to the NEST base to help keep Sentinel out of their enemy's grasp. And she would. But first, she had to grab Annabelle.

She turned a corner and caught sight of the young child, exactly where Wheelie said she'd be. Dirty, her hair completely tangled, but apparently unharmed, she was speaking into the communication device that Wheeljack had devised for her. The girl looked up at the approaching femme and smiled.

"Oh, I see Chromia. Love you. See you soon," she stated into the device and closed it. Annabelle then ran towards the motorcycle. "Chromia!"

The child ended up giving the front of the vehicle a hug, holding on tightly as if she half-expected it to be a trick. The holographic driver smiled at her.

"You okay, Annabelle? You've had all of us worried," Chromia remarked.

"Sorry," she mumbled, actually _apologizing_ for being kidnapped and scaring her friends and family like that. The youngling was really too nice for her own good. "The Decepticon bird-thing, Laserbeak, showed up at my house, but it looked like a small pink Bumblebee. It was looking for Daddy, but I knew it was a bad robot because he had red eyes. And I didn't want him to go inside and find Mommy, so I tried to hit him with a stick. But he turned into a bird and picked me up. Then he put me in a jet, who was Starscream. He took me someplace and then Starscream gave me to Barricade, who brought me here. I didn't mean to make everyone worried."

"You tried to fight off a Decepticon with a stick?" asked the disguised femme incredulously. "You're definitely Lennox's daughter and Ironhide's favorite youngling. Climb on. Let's get out of here."

Nodding, Annabelle scurried over and proceeded to pull herself up onto the bike seat. Chromia adjusted her hologram so that it appeared to be sitting behind the child with her arms on both sides protectively. In reality, the girl could easily go through the light trick, but it would keep any observing humans from being completely upset for the child's safety. The human authorities had enough to worry about with the Decepticons attacking across the city from them.

"Hang on tight," she commanded. "It's time to get you back."

* * *

As they pulled into the relative safety of the NEST base, Ironhide could relax slightly. And, no longer focused on battling an opponent, he could think about the fact his youngling was safe once again. She was apparently with Chromia and would be here soon. Annabelle had survived her ordeal with the Decepticons and didn't sound harmed by the experience. Relieved and a little upset, but unharmed.

But something she'd said in that rush of frantic words that was bothering him. She'd claimed to overhear a conversation in Cybertronian. It was likely that, if the Decepticons had wished to keep knowledge from her, they would have used their native language instead of English. They didn't know she would understand. The remnants of that conversation she'd shared before he had to focus on the battle at hand were puzzling, however. According to his little youngling, they'd mentioned an "Autobot traitor" and something about a Prime, but not Optimus.

He knew she knew Optimus Prime's name in Cybertronian. He'd taught it to her, along with the names of all the Autobots on Earth. So if she said they said "Prime," but it wasn't Optimus they were talking about, he believed her. The only other Prime even alive, let alone on this planet, was Sentinel. And she wouldn't know that name yet since he arrived after she was kidnapped. It would make sense that the Decepticons would be discussing Sentinel since they needed him, but what "Autobot traitor?" There had to be another important aspect to this he was missing. A key component that would explain what she'd overheard.

"We got to get Sentinel out of here. He's the key to all of this," stated Sam, climbing out of Bumblebee as the Autobots transformed.

Key. Sentinel was the key. It hit Ironhide suddenly and horribly. English was not their native language, so why did Sentinel start speaking it as soon as he awoke? Someone had uploaded the language while he was in stasis, but no Autobot had set a servo on the moon until he was rescue. Someone else had done it. And Sam said the Decepticons had been there. The "Autobot traitor" and the "Prime" were not two separate beings.

"Indeed I am. What you don't realize, my Autobot brothers, is that in order to win the war, a deal had to be made..." Sentinel calmly remarked behind the weapons specialist, "with Megatron."

The traitor then tried to fire an unpleasant-looking weapon at Ironhide's back in a rather cowardly move, but the weapon specialist was no longer facing away. Instead, as soon as he put the pieces together, he'd turned around to face his enemy and grabbed the gun. Ironhide forced it upwards and away from a harmful direction, meaning the shot fired went skywards instead of hitting a target. The others were mostly in a state of shock at the unexpected betrayal until Sentinel's failed attempt to off-line the transformed truck. Then, the collection of humans and Autobots sprang into action, moving the civilians out of harm's way and to move into a strategic position.

"Traitor," snarled Ironhide, struggling to keep the stronger Cybertronian occupied to buy his allies time. He was a Prime and far more powerful than even the highly-experienced weapon specialist; he was completely out-matched. It was like trying to fight Megatron solo. Of course, a small detail like being out-matched by an opponent had never stopped him before. If he could keep Sentinel preoccupied until Optimus arrived, the two of them might have a chance. "How dare you? And then you attempt such a cowardly move by shooting me in the back? I can see why you would choose to side with the Decepticons."

Wrestling the weapon downwards, Sentinel managed to fire and hit a shipping crate close to where Bumblebee was. The metal cube instantly began to rust away. For an instant, Ironhide imagined what would have happened if he'd not figured it out in time. A painful death as his body crumbled away like that shipping container… Annabelle didn't know it yet, but her quick message relaying those clues might well have saved him from that fate.

"You do not understand. I'm doing this to _save_ us," Sentinel argued, trying to get his rust-based weapon, undoubtedly another of the brilliant mech's creations, aimed back at one of the Autobots. Ironhide had no intention of allowing that to happen. Of course, as long as he kept a hold of the gun to keep it out of play, he couldn't use his own cannons against the traitor. "I will reclaim our home. But first, I must reclaim what is mine. I will have the pillars."

The NEST soldiers, those who had realized that their former ally had turned against them, were firing at the red-armored Cybertronian. They had to be cautious of the weapon specialist still in close quarters. From the obnoxious accents, he knew the twins were arriving too. Not that they had a chance of beating Sentinel, but any help was appreciated.

With a final yank, Ironhide managed to wrestle the gun out of Sentinel's grip and throw it away. With his servo now free, he threw a punch towards the traitor's face. The impact was rather satisfying.

That minor triumph was short lived. As Sentinel turned back towards the weapon specialist, a sharp and intense pain sprouted in his chest. Ironhide looked down to see something imbedded there that should not be there.

"I hereby discharge you from duty," stated the traitor, ripping free the blade Ironhide never even saw him draw in the first place and shoving the weapon specialist to the ground.

Sentinel bent down and retrieved his gun, but Ironhide didn't have the energy to stop him. He struggled to stand, to keep fighting, but couldn't do it. The traitor was still attacking the base and he couldn't do anything about it.

The weapon specialist glared furiously at Sentinel as he fought through the human soldiers and Autobots towards his goal. He kept glaring and trying to do something until his optics dimmed and he finally fell still.


	8. Battle at the Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for another viewpoint during Sentinel Prime's betrayal...

His first concern when Sentinel abruptly turned against them was to get Sam out of the line of fire. Somehow, Ironhide had reacted instantaneously to the threat and was holding the Prime off, but Bumblebee knew that wouldn't last long. The weapon specialist was strong, skilled, and the veteran of countless battles, but even he had limits. And, unfortunately, anyone else who tried to get too close would almost certainly be more of a hindrance than a help. Only Optimus would likely have the strength to make a difference in close combat with another Prime.

Everyone's reactions were slower than normal. They were unprepared for the red mech to betray them like this. They were unprepared to fight an ally, especially one so powerful. Sentinel was a Prime. He was the leader of the Autobots before Optimus; he was supposed to be someone that could be trusted. Instead, he had turned against them.

A stray shot from the weapon Ironhide was trying to wrestle out of his grip struck the shipping container beside Bumblebee as he shepherded his charge towards relative safety. The metal crate began to crumble away into red dust, rusting away in seconds. That definitely motivated the Autobot to hurry up. Thankfully, Sam was very efficient at running by now and kept moving away from the battle ground.

His best friend now taken care of, Bumblebee focused on helping the NEST forces that were placing themselves between Sentinel and the large vault containing the pillars. If he escaped Ironhide's grasp, that was the direction he'd take. In addition, there was more space for them to maneuver inside the building, away from the remaining shipping crates. Other soldiers were trying to get a clear angle on the red mech, firing hesitantly at the former ally while avoiding the weapon specialist.

"We leave and come back to dis? You're all crazy," Mudflaps announced, bursting onto the scene with his twin. "Weren't 'e on our side, used to?"

"Not no more," answered Skids. "Guess we're goin' 'ave to bust 'im up good."

Knowing that those two would undoubtedly do something rather rash and stupid that could likely get someone killed, Bumblebee waved at them. If the two glitches tried their normal "run straight ahead and start bashing" strategy, they would almost certainly make Ironhide lose his grip on the Prime and the twins would easily be tossed aside. They needed to actually think.

"Circle around," he instructed, stealing the line from some random movie, possibly a western.

As Bumblebee spoke, the struggling weapon specialist managed to yank the gun from Sentinel and threw it aside. Then, the Autobot punched the traitor with a satisfying amount of impact behind it, demonstrating why he was considered one of the best fighters on their side even against a stronger opponent.

For just a moment, he wondered if the weapon specialist would be able to hold off Sentinel until Optimus arrived. Bumblebee knew that their leader had to have been contacted by this time by someone. Possibly even by one of the twins, who were actually listening to the transformed Camaro. For that brief moment, he felt hopeful.

Then, that hope crumbled as Sentinel impaled Ironhide with his blade. The weapon specialist looked down towards the injury while Bumblebee let out a wordless gasp.

"I hereby discharge you from duty," stated the traitor, ripping the blade free and shoving Ironhide to the ground.

As soon as the weapon specialist was out of the line of fire, Bumblebee began to blast away with his arm cannon. Sentinel didn't seem to react much. He simply reached down, retrieved his gun, and began to head his target. The yellow Autobot and NEST soldiers continued to fire, but they were watching the rust-causing weapon cautiously.

"No you don't, tin-man," snarled Mudflap, leaping onto the traitor's back. "Dat ain't cool, goin' after Ironhide like dat or goin' bad on us." He started trying to beat the Prime across the shoulders and head, though how much effect he was having was debatable. He was certainly annoying the mech. "Don't mess wit us or I 'ave to give ya da beat down. Ninja style."

Sentinel reached over his shoulder with his free servo, grabbed the twin, and hurled him into Skids. The traitor then charged forward, firing ahead. The pair started to detangle themselves, muttering curses at the traitor and each other, but the Prime was already moving through the door of the base.

Another blast of his rust-causing weapon barely missed Ratchet, who'd been inside when the betrayal occurred and had barely any warning, as the medic dove out of the way. The steel beam it did hit melted away, leaving the walkway above it weakening and the soldiers who were using the higher ground to abandon the surface. A swing of his blade tore a deep gash through a few of the normal NEST vehicles parked inside, leaving them useless and causing more humans to dive out of the way. He moved through the place like Sam would walk across his living room: casually and without thought. Sentinel treated the soldiers and Autobots as if they could not possibly be a threat to his goal.

And Bumblebee, the entire time he continued to fire at the mech, wondered if he might be right.

Sideswipe raced over, his long blades ready. Sentinel paused in his progression across the base. The silver Autobot swiped at the Prime, but the traitor parried the blow with his own blade. Without missing a beat, he smacked Sideswipe with the dull side of his weapon and knocked him aside. Mirage attempted to use that moment to grab the large mech with his hooked whips and to yank him off-balance. Instead, Sentinel grabbed the whips with the servo holding the blade and pulled the other red mech towards him.

His rust-causing gun aimed straight towards the Autobot in his grasp. The only thing that prevented the Prime from firing at close range at Mirage was another set of whips, this time electrified, wrapping around the weapon and pulling hard.

"Mirage, get out of there," shouted Jolt, putting his full weight into keeping Sentinel's gun from pointing at the transformed Ferrari. "Now."

Unfortunately, by using his electrical whips to keep the weapon in his control, he was causing it to point straight at himself instead. And though the electricity flowing through their lengths seemed to be annoying the mech, the traitor seemed to be handling it well and was certainly going to respond to the Cybertronian who had placed himself in harm's way so clearly.

"Let go," Sentinel ordered in a calm voice, staring firmly at the blue Autobot in his line of fire.

Quietly, but without hesitation, Jolt answered, "No."

No matter how fast Mirage tried to rip himself free, Bumblebee could see it would not be fast enough to keep what was about to happen from occurring.

"A brave decision, worthy of a true Autobot warrior," remarked Sentinel. "But a foolhardy one."

He fired. The blast struck him dead-center, but Jolt barely flinched. He kept up the pressure on his electrical whips, keeping the weapon from being able to turn towards anyone else, even as the coppery color of rust began to spread. Mirage finally managed to yank loose of Sentinel's grip, but Jolt didn't let go. He was crumbling away, small sounds of pain coming from the Cybertronian, but he kept the gun held tightly. Everyone fired at Sentinel, making the best use of the opportunity the blue Autobot was providing.

The red mech fired again, accelerating the destruction of the collapsing figure. Jolt's blue optics remained focused on Sentinel, refusing to give in or to allow him to escape while he was still on-line. He held firm until his disintegrating structure was no longer capable of remaining even remotely together. Then, Sentinel yanked the gun away, ripping the electrical whips free of the dying mech and causing what was left of Jolt to tumble to the ground. What wasn't already consumed by the rust didn't even look like their friend by the time Sentinel moved on.

Two female voice, raised in fury and horror, cut through the sounds of gunfire and the blasts of the Autobots. Arcee and Flareup were racing onto the scene at high speed, firing at the larger mech as quickly and unrelentingly as they could manage. They could weave in and out of the human soldiers still firing at the mech easily and the sisters were so perfectly coordinated that it was more like a dance as they attacked the traitor. They were fast and graceful fighters, but they were also fragile ones.

Sentinel attempted to fire his gun at the femmes, but they dodged the blasts easily. It wasn't until Flareup raced just a little too close to his other servo did he manage to hit one. With a twist of his blade, he managed to nick her at the base of her tire and unbalanced her. In that instant while she tried to recover, she slowed and he reversed his swing. The sharp edge struck her across the middle, slicing Flareup in half and causing Arcee to scream.

* * *

The exact relationship between Chromia and her sisters was difficult to explain in human terms. In some ways they were separate individuals with their own thoughts and feelings. In other ways, they were closer to having one being with three bodies. It was complicated and always seemed to give the government agents a headache when they tried to describe it in their paperwork.

It meant, however, that she always had a general idea of her sisters position and what they were doing at any time. They were always in each other's processors and always knew what they were thinking. So, the moment that Arcee and Flareup realized that Sentinel Prime had turned against them, Chromia knew.

She should join her sisters to help in containing the threat, but the blue motorcycle couldn't do that. Annabelle did not need to be dragged onto a battlefield. She couldn't risk the child's safety like that. The femme swiftly altered her course, heading down an alley near a corner grocery store. She would keep her away from the base until it was safe to return.

"Chromia, what's going on?" asked the blond youngling as they slowed down.

"There's a fight back at the NEST base," she explained, stopping and letting Annabelle slid off. "We're just waiting for it to finish."

"Is Ironhide and Daddy fighting bad robots there?" the girl asked, tilting her head curiously.

"Actually, my sisters don't see Ironhide at the moment," the femme stated slowly, focusing more closely on the pair who were firing at the large red mech. "And it isn't a Decepticon they're dealing with."

"It isn't? Who is it?"

"A traitor named…" she began, but cut off suddenly. She transformed out of her vehicle mode and leaned against the brick wall of the alley, her optics wide in shock and horror. She'd experienced her sisters getting hurt during battle before, but this was worse. There had been a sharp pain through their connection and then… emptiness. A part of her had simply vanished. "No…"

"What's wrong?" asked Annabelle worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"It's Flareup," she whispered. "She's… gone."

"What do you mean 'gone'?"

The femme couldn't bring herself to answer. She was in too much mental and emotional pain to deal with explaining to the innocent child that her sister was off-lined by that traitor. The three of them were supposed to be together. Losing that huge chunk of herself, of who they were collectively, was so hard to accept. How were she and Arcee supposed to manage without the third sister?

"Chromia, please tell me what's wrong," the youngling begged, reaching up towards the blue femme. "You're really sad. Chromia? Please?"

While smaller than many of the Cybertronians on the planet, she was still large enough to pick up the child. She scooped up the young girl and held her tightly. Annabelle returned the hug, demonstrating the pure affection that only a child seemed capable of and that made this particular little human so wonderful. Her sister gone, Chromia needed this small comfort.

The youngling might not know what was wrong, but she wanted to fix it. Annabelle wanted to stop the femme's pain. And the knowledge that someone cared was enough for the moment. The precious child trying to calm the Cybertronian, even while innocent of the problem, was somehow a reassurance. The only thing that might have helped more would be to have a certain black mech present. But she'd manage with one sweet youngling who cared for her.

* * *

Mearing arrived at the base, but it only took a few seconds to realize that the location had turned into a battlefield. How in the world did it dissolve into this mess? She thought that they were supposed to simply escort Sentinel to this secure location. Why was there gunfire inside?

It was even stranger when she saw who the combatants were. It appeared that several Autobots and NEST soldiers were all attacking Sentinel Prime. And he was destroying government property. How dare he? Did he think this equipment was cheap?

"Sentinel, stop this," she shouted.

As soon as she started trying to chew out said Cybertronian, he fixed her with a hard glare.

He struck at the walkway close to where she stood, announcing, "I am a Prime. I do not answer to the likes of you. Return what belongs to me."

The woman realized that she'd definitely missed out on some rather critical, need-to-know, essential information. She watched as the unstoppable mech proceeded towards the vault, explaining that he would leave with the pillars and he would remove any attempts to stop him. And no one apparently could prevent that.

* * *

He knew before he pulled into the base that he was too late, that everything was already over. He'd traveled as quickly as possible as soon as Sam realized that the Decepticons had hundreds of the pillars and that the only thing they lacked was Sentinel. Optimus had no intentions of having his former mentor captured and used by them. Then, while still a distance from his goal, another message was passed on to him. This one was shocking and nearly made the semi hit the brakes. Sentinel Prime had turned against them. The Cybertronian he'd respected the most, whose example he'd tried to emulate in the days after the Golden Age of Cybertron, had betrayed them. And the destruction he found as he rolled into the base confirmed the news that Sideswipe had quickly relayed.

He regained his biped form, staring silently as the wounded soldiers were taken care of and the rubble was cleared. The Autobot leader didn't know what to say to them at that moment. It didn't seem possible that Sentinel could have done this.

Then, Mearing's voice rang out harsh and accusingly, "Take a good look, Optimus. This is all your fault."

She claimed everything that had transpired was because of his actions, that none of these lives would have been lost if they had not trusted someone that he'd assured them was safe. And he couldn't deny she was right. He'd told them that Sentinel could be trusted and he'd been proven wrong. Every human and Autobot who had suffered during the attack was due to his mistake. He'd asked them to put their faith in the wrong mech.

Optimus sought out a familiar face among those present, someone he could speak to about the battle he'd missed. Finally, he spotted Lennox helping another soldier limp towards one of the human medics. As soon as he was finished, the man turned his face upwards to the mech.

"This isn't your fault, Optimus," reassured the soldier immediately. "You thought he was on our side."

"And my mistake was costly," the Autobot reminded. "What are our losses?"

"We lost the pillars. A few men were hit with falling or thrown debris, but fewer human casualties than I expected. Several injuries, though," he described, rubbing the back of head uneasily. "I don't think Sentinel was concerned about any threat we might have posed, so he didn't focus on us being obstacles. If we got in the way, he just marched through us anyway. But if an Autobot tried to stop him…" Will paused, his expression darkening as he considered what he had witnessed. "I don't know what that thing was, but he had some kind of gun that caused instant rusting. I guess it would probably be the Cybertronian equivalent of a bio-weapon." He shook his head, "I never saw anything like what it did and I hope that I never do again. We lost Jolt to it. Flareup was cut in half and Arcee isn't handling it well. And Ironhide… Ratchet is doing what he can for him, though he said that he was lucky to have survived even as long as he has. Sentinel's first move was to try and take him out, but Ironhide didn't go down easily. Everyone else is slightly banged up, but in no immediately danger."

Optimus nodded solemnly in response to the man's description of events, but his attention was diverted as he sensed another Autobot swiftly approaching. A quick conversation across the com-links and the Prime turned towards the entrance.

"I believe that you will want to see these arrivals," he confided, knowing that this was the only good news he'd likely be able to deliver in the near future.

Before Will Lennox could ask what the mech meant, the motorcycle engine came within human hearing range. The blue bike slowed down as it entered the base, weaving carefully around the rubble and soldiers. Sitting on the vehicle, in front of the holographic rider of the femme, was his daughter.

"Annabelle," the man breathed softly in relief before breaking into a run towards the child.

* * *

It was really messy. Annabelle knew that Mommy complained about her room sometimes when she forgot to clean it, but the base was even worse. It also looked like lots of stuff was broken. And some of the people in uniforms like her Daddy's seemed to have boo-boos on them. Chromia had said there was a fight here, but not against Decepticons. Which didn't make sense since Decepticons were the bad robots and the Autobots fought only bad robots, but she knew Daddy and Ironhide would explain. She also didn't know what made Chromia so sad either. She didn't know where Flareup had "gone," but apparently it wasn't a good thing. She didn't know much really about what was going on, but she intended to find out soon.

She spotted Optimus easily and he looked kind of sad too. But, more important, she could see a very familiar face near the Cybertronian's feet. And she was very happy to see him.

"Daddy," she yelled towards him, sliding off Chromia so she could run towards her parent. "Daddy, Daddy, I missed you."

He reached her fairly quickly and knelt down and wrapped her in a tight hug. For the first time in several days, the child was safe in the arms of a family member. Daddy held her so tightly that she almost couldn't breathe, but she didn't care. She was safe. No more mean, scary robots carrying her around and keeping her away from home. It took a few minutes for her to notice, but she realized she was crying a little. Which was silly since she was back with her dad, was a big girl, and she had no reason to cry now. Everything was okay again.

When Daddy finally loosened his grip and drew back enough so that he could look her in the face, brushing her rather messy hair out of the way, she smiled at him, "I really missed you, Daddy. I'm sorry I made everybody worried and stuff."

"It isn't your fault, sweetheart," he assured her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I'm just so glad you're all right. We'll see if one of these medics can give you a check-up later, get you cleaned up, and find you something to eat."

"Okay," she nodded. "I'm really hungry and thirsty."

He picked her up, her arms wrapping around his neck and her head resting on his shoulder. She felt safe and a little tired now. Daddy would take care of everything, including whatever bad thing that made a mess and made Chromia sad, and then they'd all get to go home. She'd get to sleep in her own bed, Mommy would read her a bedtime story, and Ironhide would…

She frowned slightly, "Daddy, where's Ironhide?"

Annabelle felt her parent stiffen at the question. She lifted her head and tried to look at his face. Now Daddy looked sad too.

"Where's Ironhide?" she repeated.

"I… I need to tell you something, sweetheart," he stated slowly, shifting his grip on her. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "Do you remember that Wheelie turned from a bad robot into a good one?" When she nodded, he continued, "Well, we had something similar happen to us, only the other way around."

"A good robot who turned bad?" she whispered, remembering what she'd overheard. "An Autobot traitor?"

"Yes, but we didn't know he'd changed sides," her parent explained. "He pretended to still be good for a little while. Today, though, he turned against us and stole some important things from us. He attacked us and, since we thought he was on our side, we weren't ready for a fight. Sentinel Prime," she blinked in surprise at the name, "managed to do some pretty bad stuff, Annabelle."

He hugged her tightly again. She was getting worried. Daddy still hadn't answered her question, but she had to ask another one.

"What does Sentinel Prime look like?"

Her parent sounded a little less upset describing the Cybertronian's appearance than describing his actions, "He's very big, bright red, and turns into a fire truck. I'll see if I can find a picture or have one of the Autobots show you a hologram of him later."

She nodded, trying to imagine the robot who turned from good to bad, and asked one last time, "Daddy, where's Ironhide? Why won't you tell me?"

"Annabelle, sweetheart, I'm trying to explain what happened, but it's hard. Sentinel did a really bad thing today. He was an old friend of Optimus, so it was very unexpected for him to betray them." He paused again. She didn't like how long it was taking to talk about her favorite Autobot. Why wouldn't Daddy tell her? Strangely, her parent asked, "Do you remember when Suzie's dog was hit by a car? It died because it got hurt so badly and they had to bury it?"

"Yes, Suzie was really sad about Lacy dying," she mumbled. "She loved her dog a lot."

"When Sentinel attacked and stole the pillars he was after, he… killed Jolt and Flareup. And he hurt Ironhide pretty badly," he explained.


	9. Invasion

After his daughter struggled through her firm denial of what he'd told her, her belief in Ironhide's invincibility clashing sharply with her belief that her father would never lie to her, Annabelle finally seemed to understand that the weapon specialist was truly hurt. Then, she suddenly started wiggling frantically out of his grip, trying to get down. Even if she didn't say anything, Will knew she was trying to get free and find her friend. And he couldn't let her do that. Even if Ratchet wasn't busy trying to fix the damage to the Autobot, he couldn't stand the idea of letting his little girl see Ironhide with a jagged hole through his chest. It was only a miracle that they'd removed Flareup and what was left of Jolt's bodies before she arrived.

It took every bit of his parental authority with his daughter to convince her to wait. He had to remind her of what she looked like, wearing the same dirty clothes for several days without a bath, and that she needed something to eat. He pointed out that, if she went to see Ironhide like this, he'd be worried about her. And Ratchet would certainly not allow her in if she didn't eat something first. Will slowly persuade her that it would be better to get cleaned up, fed, and looking more like herself again before she went to see Ironhide. Perhaps this delay would allow the Autobot medic to ensure that the black mech was stable.

A quick look over by a human medic after he finished with the more serious cases assured the parent that, aside from being mildly dehydrated and in definite need of a proper meal, Annabelle didn't seem to have anything more serious wrong with her than some slight bruising on her shoulders where the avian-like Decepticon grabbed her. And while they had some showers on site, there was not a huge excess of children's clothes for her to wear. Instead, Will had to improvise with a grey hoodie that enveloped her like a full-length dress while her own shirt and shorts were tossed in a washing machine. Hopefully they wouldn't turn a bunch of soldiers' laundry pink, but that was a risk he would take.

While she washed, he called Sarah. He didn't tell her everything, but he had to let her know that Annabelle was safe. For the last few days, his wife had been cleaning everything in the household. She couldn't go to the police to tell them that their daughter was stolen by a giant metal bird and she couldn't do any good by scouring the countryside at random in the hopes of spotting the child. So, she cleaned. Sarah did laundry, scrubbed dishes, dusted all the furniture in the household, swept floors, washed windows, cleaned the oven, shampooed the carpet, took down all the curtains and washed them, dragged the refrigerator away from the wall and cleaned behind it, emptied the gutters, pulled every single weed out of her flowerbeds, mowed the lawn, and disinfected everything she could lay her hands on. If there was a speck of dirt in that whole household by the time he returned home, Will would be very surprised. Sarah didn't like standing by and letting events happen. She needed to keep busy.

But as soon as he said the magic words, that their daughter was safe, she let out a relieved sob and, judging by the sounds through the phone, collapsed tiredly in the closest chair. He then spent the rest of Annabelle's shower trying to convince his wife not to board the quickest plane and head out to meet them. The Decepticons were up to something, Sentinel was in Washington D.C., and he wanted Sarah away from the threat. And, while he'd also prefer to have Annabelle out of the city as well, his daughter was in the next safest location he could imagine: inside the NEST base close to the Autobots. Even after the events that had transpired recently, he felt confident that she would safer here, even if most of the Autobots were going after Sentinel.

Clean, hair still dripping, wearing the borrowed hoodie with the sleeves rolled up to expose her small hands, and staring at her parent with a stubbornness worthy of her mother, Annabelle demanded to see Ironhide. She might be hungry and tired after everything, but she was _more_ worried about the weapon specialist. The little girl was on the verge of tears at the thought of her best friend hurt and she intended to get to him one way or another.

Admitting defeat, Will knelt down to her level again and looked her right in the eye, "Annabelle, we'll go see him. We'll go see him. But I need you to promise me a few things, okay? Let me go get you something to eat first. Ratchet would have my head if you went in there hungry since you haven't had a real dinner lately. Another important thing you need to know, sweetheart. If Ratchet tells us to go, we'll have to leave. No arguments." He took a deep breath, knowing that regardless of what he said or did, she wasn't going to be happy about seeing the weapon specialist hurt, "And you have to be brave girl for me. Ironhide probably won't be awake yet, but Ratchet is taking care of him."

"And Ratchet is a really good doctor, even if Ironhide sometimes tries to skip check-ups," mumbled the child, her eyes drifting towards the ground.

"Yes, he's very good at what he does," he agreed, tilting her face back towards him. "But Ironhide won't be in that great of condition." Will just hoped he'd be in better condition than earlier. Human or Cybertronian; being stabbed in the chest is a rather serious injury. "So when you see him, you need to be prepared for him looking kind of beat up. Do you think you can handle that?"

Biting her lip, she nodded solemnly to her father's question and agreeing to his conditions. It always amazed him how mature she was for her age. She may not know what kind of condition Ironhide might be in, but she intended to be brave anyway. She wanted to be with her friend.

A quick trip to the break room, thankful untouched by the attack, provided the child with a warm cup of ramen noodles. The child practically inhaled the food. The speed was partially hunger and partially an impatience to be reunited with the weapon specialist.

"Okay, just let me check with Ratchet first to make sure we can see him," he stated, standing back up.

He intended to use this opportunity not only to make sure that they wouldn't be in the Autobot medic's way, but to inquire about what Ironhide's chances were without his daughter listening. Unfortunately, Will had greatly underestimated his daughter, just as so many had underestimated her in the past. As soon as she figured out the right direction, she broke into a run. Apparently she'd run out of patience and decided she would get to her favorite mech _now_ , regardless of anything else.

* * *

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," muttered Sam under his breath as he convinced his piece of junk vehicle to speed up a little more.

Once more, his cell phone failed to connect to Mikaela's and he resisted the urge to curse any Supreme Beings of Phone Signals that might possibly exist. It wasn't worth the risk just in case they turned out to really exist _somewhere_ in the universe. Did that Dylan guy live in a dead spot where no signal could penetrate? Shouldn't rich guys have the best reception? How could he warn his girlfriend of Sentinel's betrayal and the undoubtedly horrible events on the horizon if he _couldn't reach her_? Was the universe working against him?

He'd managed to survive the attack at the base. Mostly because the traitorous mech wasn't that interested in him, though his highly-developed "flee for your miserable life" skills played a part too. As the smoke cleared, Sam had given Bumblebee (who had happily lived through the chaos too) a quick explanation of needing to warn Mikaela and jumped into the "replacement" car.

Something warned the boy that time was of the essence. He needed to get her somewhere safe. And if that Dylan guy got in his way or tried to slow them down… Well, he'd figure that out when it happened. Either way, he and Mikaela were definitely not staying at the party.

* * *

With deliberate slow steps, Megatron walked up the stone stairs of this monument to some event in human history. This particular city had many such things. This one, the "Lincoln Memorial," sparked his interest due to one particular feature.

Starscream, in a rather fake-sounding praising voice, remarked, "Oh, my master, such a brilliant scheme. So when Sentinel left Cybertron, it was to defect?"

Resisting the urge to hit the betrayal-prone Decepticon, he explained, "He was meant to rendezvous with me once I gained the All Spark, before fate waylaid us both. His ship would follow the signal of the Cube, just as I did, but it was damaged in battle and sent tumbling at random for a time. While I was caught in the ice, he was in stasis and drifting through space. When luck should bring the Ark close to this system, it managed to catch the signal again and steered towards this planet. Only to crash upon the moon instead." His crimson optics narrowed at the thought of how much trouble this wretched rock was proving to be. "Soundwave, following my final orders to him before I left, managed to track the ship. He did not know of the intended rendezvous. He had no reason to believe I was here. He only knew that he was to follow Sentinel's movements at a distance and be prepared to act if the Prime tried to rethink his decision to leave the Cybertron with the space bridge pillars. By the time he came to this planet and it became clear that the plan needed to be adjusted, he could do little more than have the pillars hidden and upload the local language into the stasis-locked mech. So he waited and planned, preparing for the day we would find a way to take advantage of our little surprise. There was only one way to revive him. We needed Prime and his matrix."

"Excellent strategy," Starscream praised, showering his leader in praise while undoubtedly conceiving a new way to dispose of him. "So, he is now your partner."

Megatron dismissed the pathetic idea that _any_ mech could be considered his equal enough to be called a partner. He was toying with Sentinel, and his Second-in-Command, by exaggerating the extent of his injuries from his last encounter with Optimus. He acted as if he was weaker than he truly was, lowering their guard. When the time came and he had finished using the red mech for his purposes, he would demonstrate who was truly in charge. Until then, he could depend on the Autobot traitor to do what he needed.

Without the Cube, there were few ways available to restore Cybertron to a state he could rule. The Solar Harvester was destroyed and the power of the All Spark no longer seemed to dwell within the annoying insect, Sam Witwicky. Perhaps the energy and knowledge had transferred to the Matrix of Leadership when it formed in the boy's hand, but he did not know for certain. What he did know was that it would take some resources to make Cybertron worthy of his presence again. And he knew that Sentinel Prime, so intent on restoring their home planet and empowering himself back to a position of power on their planet, would do everything necessary to make that restoration a reality. He wanted a truce, a partnership to save Cybertron, and did not seem to care about the price. But Megatron knew that inside this mech who claimed to want only a better world, there was a darkness and desire to rule over a properly impressive planet that mirrored his own. He could use that darkness and pride to manipulate him.

Firing at the stone replica of a large human leader, Megatron proudly settled himself into the now-vacant throne-like chair to observe events. He knew that, right at that moment, Sentinel was positioning and activating the pillars. His forces, lying in wait for so long, would arrive soon.

"He is my greatest triumph," he acknowledged, watching the space bridge open.

"So impressive," complimented his Second-in-Command, though whether in response to the plan or the piece of technology was uncertain.

The Decepticon leader grinned to himself as the first members of his forces appeared.

* * *

As many of Autobots as could be spared and were in any condition to fight raced down the darkening streets of the city. The energon detectors had located the missing traitor and they had to stop him before he could use the pillars. But as they neared the location, Optimus realized that he was, once again, too late.

The strange sizzling break in the air, a crack that connected two distant locations through space, materialized ahead of them and Decepticon forces began to burst forward. Wave after wave of deadly warriors with crimson optics and violent dispositions arrived on Earth. Within moments, the Autobots were out-numbered and out-matched as their enemies began to attack the surrounding area, scanned an alternate form, transformed, and vanished into the chaos. They had no chance of defeating the untold numbers pouring out and they had even less chance of preventing the Decepticons from disappearing into the night. This was not the right time or place to fight them, so Optimus reluctantly ordered his forces to fall back.

But he spotted someone he recognized and couldn't convince himself to follow that same advice. He charged forward, trying to catch the mech by surprise. The Cybertronian, however, did not prove to be easily caught unaware.

After the red mech shrugged off his initial attack, Optimus asked his former mentor, "Why Sentinel? Why?"

"For Cyberton," he claimed fanatically. "For our home. What war destroyed, we can rebuild. But only if we join with the Decepticons."

The pair of Primes continued to clash, struggling to disarm each other. Optimus couldn't quite put his whole spark into the attempt, even after what Sentinel had done that day. It was too hard to separate his memory of the mech as the most noble and greatest representation of everything he'd ever believed in and the Cybertronian who would easily toss his entire moral code aside by killing his allies and aiding the Decepticons.

"No, it's not the only way," he pleaded to the older mech. "This is our home. We must defend the humans."

"So lost you are, Optimus," Sentinel commented. "On Cybertron, we were gods. And here, they call as machines. Let the humans serve us or perish."

The shock that the red mech would say such a thing made the Autobot leader's reactions slow. Did the Cybertronian he'd always admired truly view their civilization in such a light? As gods to rule over humans? How could his old mentor have changed so much? Or was the mech always this way and he'd simply been blind to Sentinel's true nature?

The older mech took advantage of Optimus' distraction to disarm and force him to the ground. Then, almost dimissively, Sentinel walked away.

"You're lucky I didn't kill you when I had the chance," he remarked coldly as he left.

"It's not over," Optimus stated firmly, watching his former mentor, the traitor, walk away.

* * *

He marched into the building, trying to ignore the displays of wealth. He had one goal and one goal only: find Mikaela. Sam was rather happy to see that his girlfriend was safe. He was less happy to see her at a table with that rather inappropriate Dylan guy. From this angle, it almost looked like a date. Except for the fact that Mikaela had her "fake happy" face on, reassuring the young man that she was not even close to falling for the rich man.

As promised, she was wearing her flat shoes instead of her heels. She was also wearing a pair of dress pants and attractive blouse instead of a skirt or dress. She'd learned her lesson after running across the sandy desert of Egypt dodging weapon fire in her high heels. If there was a chance of an emergency, she said she would sacrifice fashion for practicality. Which was good since chaos was erupting once again.

"Sam, what are you doing here?" she asked, surprised at his presence and rising from her chair.

"Tried to call. Couldn't reach you," he explained hurriedly. "Emergency now. Got to go." He looked over at the well-dressed older man, "Sorry to interrupt your party. Me and 'Kaela have important things to take care of. Know what I mean?"

"Of course, Sam," Dylan answered, standing up and walking the pair towards the door. "I understand exactly what you mean. Though, I do have a little advice. My father always said 'when the war isn't yours, always join the winning side'."

Sam froze for a second, the true meaning of the man's words sinking in. Then, he and Mikaela picked up the pace. They had to get out _now_.

"I don't know. Was that too forward?" the rich individual asked his maid as he followed at a more dignified pace.

He was working for them. He was working for the Decepticons. Dylan Gould, CEO of the Hotchkiss Gould Investments and connected to so many important pieces of the puzzle, worked for the Decepticons. That single thought kept echoing through his head.

"His family did some of the accounting for the space program," muttered Mikaela numbly, making the same connection as him. "I remember hearing someone mention that."

"We're taking the 'inappropriate gift'," Sam stated, trying to break out of his stunned mindset. "It's faster than 'the replacement' and we need to get out of here now."

This plan swiftly proved to be a foolish one. Before the vehicle traveled twenty feet, Sam felt himself being tossed out of his seat in mid-transformation for the second time that day. At least this time he wasn't racing down the highway at high speed. Unfortunately, the silver sports car hadn't tossed Mikaela out. It kept her inside and creepy tentacles erupted from the disguised Cybertronian, menacing the young woman with them.

The young man tried to run to his girlfriend's aid, but was quickly restrained and forced to remain in place. Dylan came out, identified the vehicle as "Soundwave," and began to explain his long history with the Decepticons. Apparently turning against humanity was a family trait. He explained that the Gould family was the reason that no one had been to the moon in so long, that he'd hired Mikaela and found Sam a job because he needed a spy who was close to the Autobots, and generally made the young man want to beat the smug rich guy up.

Throughout the creep's monologue, Mikeala had been alternating between attacking the tentacles with her fists and purse and screaming at Sam to not do anything Dylan told him to. Even trapped and being used as leverage against her boyfriend, she refused to accept a role as "damsel in distress" quietly. That was his girlfriend, Sam couldn't help thinking proudly as that piece of slime, Dylan, took his hand in his own.

Continuing to monologue like a cartoon villain, the traitor to the entire human population explained that he wanted Sam to learn if the Autobots, who would apparently be soon sent off planet, had any contingency plans about returning or retaliating against the Decepticons. As he spoke, the older man's watch transformed and crawled to Sam's own wrist.

Before the young man could express his disgust with the very idea that he would betray his friends like that, the tiny Cybertronian latched on. Agony shot through his entire body, sending him to the ground. His muscles twitched painfully and beyond his control, leaving his limbs stiff and his jaw locked closed. Dylan was still talking in that infuriatingly calm fashion, explaining that the little monster had tapped into his nervous system and would keep an eye on him. It would listen in, spy on whatever he did or saw, and would keep him from revealing this whole situation. And he would be keeping Mikaela as a guarantee of good behavior.

Slowly, the pain receded and he was pulled back upright. Sam glared at Dylan, the official worst person on the entire planet, with as much venom and hatred as he could summon. And he could summon quite a lot at that moment. He was about to be forced against his will to turn against those who trusted him or risk Mikaela's life. And he blamed the entire thing on this horrible human being in front of him.

"I'll kill you," Sam promised, though Dylan didn't seem particularly threatened by his words.

He was lead away, wishing desperately for _any_ other possible action than the one before him. He hated the idea of betraying the Autobots, especially after they had already suffered one traitor in their midst. But, even as he listened to Mikaela begging him not to do it, he knew that there was nothing he could do about it. It was out of his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, when I started writing this, I'd only seen the film in theaters a total of two times. Everything that I managed to correctly replicate from the movie was due to remember the sequence of events, lines, and actions in detail from those two viewings. So you have my great memory for films to thank for this story.


	10. Reunited

Coming out of stasis slowly, he felt impossibly sluggish and lethargic. He didn't have the strength to bring all his systems back on-line, but he didn't intend to let a little detail like that stop him from trying. There was still pain, but it was no longer as intense as before. His processor struggled to recall his last few memories.

Annabelle calling. Teaching a few Decepticons a lesson. Sentinel was the key. Betrayal. Wrestling a rust-causing weapon from his grip. A blade.

That certainly explained why his chest hurt. Of course, that still left the question of what had transpired after that point. And there was only one way to gain the answers he wanted.

Tiredly, he activated his optics and quickly took in the surroundings to ensure that he did not need to go straight into combat mode. Not that he was in any real condition to put up a fight, but Ironhide would be the last to admit such a thing. It took almost no time to realize he was in Ratchet's Med bay, laying on the highly-reinforced metal berth meant for repair work on injured mechs, which likely meant that the entire attack on the base was over. Whether or not Sentinel succeeded in gaining possession of the pillars, and what the cost had been, was still a mystery.

"Welcome back, old friend," the medical officer remarked, drawing his attention to the fact that Ratchet was actually in the room with him. "You had me a little concerned, but I should have known you'd be too stubborn to off-line properly."

"Watch who you're calling 'old.' You're no youngling, yourself," he muttered gruffly.

A soft chuckle emerged from the medic, apparently relieved that he was acting like himself, before his voice took a more somber tone, "You were lucky. Sentinel barely missed hitting your spark. If he'd stabbed you just a little further over, you would have been beyond help before you even hit the ground. He still did plenty of damage and you could have easily off-lined anyway."

"Sorry, but I intend to stay around for some time. It'll take more than some traitorous, back-stabbing coward to get rid of me," he stated before attempting to sit up. "And I owe that mech a rematch."

Ratchet placed a servo on his shoulder and forced him back into a resting position. It took a frighteningly small amount of force from the medic. Perhaps an immediate rematch would not be his greatest idea ever.

"I just finished putting you back together. You're stabilized now and in no immediate danger. Give me a little time and I might actually let you out of Med bay. You are not, however, anywhere close to combat ready. If you argue with that decision, I'll weld you into place until I deem you well again," the Medical Officer threatened, but without as much force behind his words as the weapon specialist would have expected.

Narrowing his optics at the transformed ambulance, he asked, "What happened? You're not telling me something."

Ratchet hesitated for a moment before answering, "Sentinel Prime took the pillars. We lost Jolt and Flareup in the process. Optimus and the others are trying to regain the pillars before he can use them."

That explained it. The medic was undoubtedly blaming himself somewhat for their demise. He hated not being able to save someone. Ratchet would be unhappy and guilt-ridden for some time.

Of course, he wasn't happy to hear of their losses. But the weapon specialist was channeling any guilt or grief about these events into anger at Sentinel. He would make that traitor pay for what he'd done. Regardless of the fact that the medic was right about him not being in any condition to fight at the moment and that he'd already witnessed how out-matched he was against the Prime, he intended to see that mech defeated.

"And in case you're wondering," Ratchet remarked, drawing Ironhide out of his thoughts about payback, "she's unharmed and was very worried about you."

Before he could wonder what the medic meant, the brightly-colored mech gestured towards a corner of the Med bay. It took Ironhide a moment to identify what he was seeing. It looked like a grey, cloth, shapeless bundle just sitting there out of the way, but he then spotted the blond hair on top and realized it was Annabelle drowsing in an oversized piece of clothing. The weapon specialist couldn't help smiling at the sight and feeling more relieved than he'd felt in days. The youngling was just curled up, her head resting on her knees, and was perfectly safe.

"Chromia brought her to the base after everything calmed down," the Medical Officer explained. "Once she heard you were hurt, it was all that Lennox could do to keep her from running in here immediately. Eventually, she did manage to escape him and get in here anyway. She's a stubborn child. Probably due to your bad influence on her, though Lennox is fairly hard-headed himself."

Part of him felt rather proud that nothing could stop his Annabelle when she set her mind on a goal. Another part of him realized what it must have been like for her to hear about Sentinel's attack and then to see him in the Med bay. Ironhide knew that, in her young mind, he and her father were invincible. And while Ratchet might have taken care of the more life-threatening damage, there was still clear evidence of the ragged hole where his armor hadn't been repaired yet. Though he'd been in stasis when it occurred, he knew that his innocent youngling must have been terribly upset when she saw him like that. Yet another reason to silently curse Sentinel's betrayal.

"She stayed out of the way, but completely refused her father's attempts to convince her to leave. I finally told him that she could stay here and he went back to trying to create some order among the soldiers," Ratchet continued, subtly skipping over what the child's first impression must have been. "She's been sitting in the corner waiting for you. She fell asleep a few hours ago, but she'll wake up instantly if you try to move her."

He saw the medic glancing between the drowsing girl and his current patient, a calculating expression on his face. Finally, the Medical Officer seemed to arrive at a decision and reached over to the weapon specialist.

"You try to set one servo off this and I'll _help_ the twins in their next ill-conceived prank against you. Understand?" he threatened, helping the injured mech to sit upright on the berth.

Ironhide struggled not to show much exhausting the change in position was and how it made his half-repaired stab injury ache, though he had no doubt that the medic at least suspected how he felt. Still, the weapon specialist had his pride.

As soon as he was certain that his patient would stay upright on his own, earning a slight scowl and a quiet assertion that he was fine, Ratchet stepped over to the sleeping child. With extreme delicacy, the medic reached down and pressed his finger against the small girl's back.

"Annabelle," he called softly, sounding far more understanding than any of the times he ranted at the twins about whatever new dents they'd ended up with after a pointless argument. "Someone would like to talk to you."

The blond youngling slowly raised her head, her eyes blinking blearily as she woke up. As soon as her gaze fell on the weapon specialist, she began to struggle against her grogginess and the oversized grey piece of clothing that consumed her small form. Ratchet careful scooped her up before she managed to trip and fall.

"I'm going to see if there is any news yet," the transformed ambulance remarked, setting the child on the berth next to Ironhide before heading towards the exit. "Try to resist the urge to do something foolish."

The weapon specialist resisted the urge to smile gratefully at Ratchet for giving them some privacy and looked down at Annabelle instead. The girl was biting her bottom lip and staring at her feet uneasily. He didn't need years of experience around her to know that something was wrong.

"Annabelle?" he asked softly. "Are you all right?"

"Is… is it…" she began, her voice breaking in the traditional fashion of all young children on the verge of tears, "is it my fault? Did my… my phone call distract you? Is… is that why… why you got hurt?"

"No," Ironhide answered, horrified at the idea of the girl blaming herself. "No, this is not your fault, youngling. You did nothing wrong." Reaching over to her, and refusing to wince at the movement, he wrapped his fingers around her like a protective wall. "Do not even think that for a moment. Actually, I should thank you."

Sniffling slightly, she leaned against the metal palm. That small contact seemed to calm and reassure her. The child looked up again, her gaze pausing momentarily on the spot that Sentinel stabbed before finally meeting his optics.

"Why?" she asked. "What did I do?"

"You warned me about what you heard the Decepticons say. If you hadn't told me about there being an Autobot traitor and about a Prime who wasn't Optimus, Sentinel would have…," he paused, knowing that suggesting what his fate would have likely been would be even more unsettling to the girl. Still, he had to be honest with her and make certain that she understood that she'd actually helped him with that call. "If you didn't warn me, it could have been worse."

"Really?I helped you?"

He smiled at her, "Yes. You helped me, Annabelle. So don't blame yourself for what happened. Blame that cowardly traitor, Sentinel Prime. He's the one who turned against us."

"Okay," she nodded. She gave him a weak smile in return and whispered, "I really missed you, Ironhide."

"I missed you too, youngling. And I'm so glad you're safe," the weapon specialist responded. "Those Decepticons will pay dearly for touching you."

"Laserbeak stole me out of the yard, but I think he was looking for Daddy," she mumbled. "He tried to act nice, but I knew he wasn't really. I didn't want him to hurt Mommy, so I hit him with a stick." He chuckled slightly at her description of attacking a Decepticon, though he was silently fuming at the thought of her being kidnapped like that and what could have happened to her. She continued, "He gave me to Starscream. That's where I heard that stuff. We stayed somewhere all night and then he gave me to Barricade. But he was scared you'd get mad at him and beat him up again. So he brought me to Washington D.C. to give me back. I remember them saying something about a distraction. Was I the distraction?"

"They knew we'd worry about you," he admitted. "They wanted us to be worrying about what happened to you so we wouldn't be able to think about how they were tricking us."

"Sorry," she muttered.

"I told you, Annabelle," he scolded gently. "None of this is your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Okay, Ironhide." She frowned slightly, "If that great big meanie, Sentinel, was a good robot that turned bad, like how Wheelie was a bad robot who turned good, does that mean his eyes will still be blue?"

"Unfortunately," he growled.

"If I see him, how will I know he's bad then? I don't know what he looks like. Daddy just said he was big, red, and turns into a fire truck."

The weapon specialist realized that his youngling had a point. Even though he had absolutely no intention of letting that traitor anywhere near the child, the fact she was stolen from her home proved that he couldn't protect her perfectly. She needed to know that she couldn't trust that traitor if she saw him. Ratchet would likely go through with his "weld to the berth" threat, but Ironhide decided to she needed to know.

The mech formed a miniature holographic image of the Prime, approximately the same height of the child, in front of her. It was harder and took more energy than he should probably be expending currently, it was certainly more translucent than he intended, but it served his purpose. The girl quickly looked the small image over, apparently memorizing exactly what Sentinel's appearance was in case she ever met him. As soon as he estimated that she had a good look, he turned the hologram off.

"Did that make you sleepy?" she asked, noticing how much more exhausted he was afterwards. "Should I go get Ratchet?"

"No, I'm fine," he assured tiredly. "Just promise me to be careful of that traitor if you ever see him."

"I promise."

* * *

Will partially wished that his daughter hadn't stayed in the Med bay. He remembered the expression on her face when he caught up with her inside, having caught sight of her best friend laying there. The only reason he believed that she wasn't freaking out was due to her promise to be brave. Instead, she stood there silently with tears rolling down her face, shaking. He would have led her back out, but any attempt to move her resulted in her struggling free. Finally, Ratchet suggested she could stay if she kept quiet and out of the way. Will didn't intend for the medic to be a baby-sitter, especially since he had more important things to do. But the Cybertronian had assured him that Ironhide was past the worst of it and the girl would be no trouble.

He was partially relieved, however. He needed to help sort out everything and prepare for whatever mess the Decepticons would cause next. And he wouldn't be able to focus on any of the necessary preparations if he didn't know his daughter was in good hands. Plus, it kept the knowledge of yet another "civilian without clearance" on the premises from Mearing for a little longer while he dealt with the disaster before them.

Things were definitely progressing to "disaster level" in his opinion. There was an unknown number of Decepticons who'd just been released upon the city, they still had possession of the pillars, and his instincts warned him that things were only going to get worse.

A quick glance at the television in the break room as he walked by proved him right. Sentinel was delivering an ultimatum to the world leaders, claiming to be himself the leader of the Autobots. The _nerve_ of that traitor. He was stating that they intended to harvest Earth's resources to rebuild Cybertron and if humanity did not interfere, they would be spared. A lie, if Will's experience fighting the Decepticons was anything to go by. Sentinel also ordered the so-called "rebel Autobots" to leave the planet. And, judging from what he saw on the television, the leaders of the world were considering it.

More Decepticons were on the planet, setting off energon detectors at more and more distant locations, and they were seriously considering banishing the only Cybertronians on their side? Didn't they realize that, as good as NEST's human soldiers were, they needed all the help as they could find? Now more than ever?

The man marched himself across the recovering base, hunting for the only person he could think of who might have the power to prevent that. Mearing was on the phone with someone, likely a person of importance. He wasn't in the mood for more politics, so he was glad when she hung up just as he opened his mouth.

He demanded to know if it was true, if they were actually planning on kicking the Autobots off Earth. He asked her if there was anything that they could do to prevent it. Her answer was that it was too late, though she did seem regretful at least. The Cybertronians would be escorted to their ship, the Xanthium. They had to leave.

Will fought the urge to punch her. It wasn't her fault; it wasn't her decision.

Slowly, she ordered, "Contact Mr. Witwicky. I was wrong to exclude him. He's been right so far and seems to have the best idea of what we're dealing with. And he's earned the right to see the Autobots off."

He could see it in her face, could see that she'd realized that she'd made mistakes in the past in her interactions with the Autobots and their allies. Unlike Galloway, she actually seemed to learn from her mistakes. A member of the government who could admit they were wrong; it was a miracle.

"Yes, he has," the soldier agreed. "He earned that right a long time ago. And, I want you to think about it from his viewpoint for a moment, ma'am." He used that hated title to ensure he had her attention and that she realized he needed to be taken serious. "He is extremely close to the Autobots, especially since Bumblebee has been his guardian since he was in high school. This is going to be hard on him, seeing them leave, and he deserves the chance to say good-bye."

"I agree," she began, but Will continued.

"And while most of the NEST members are also close, we have an emergency to take care of and can't be spared. So they won't be able to have that same luxury of seeing them off, even if they deserve it as well, correct?"

"Yes, but what does that have to…"

"In the Med bay, right this second, is my daughter," he stated firmly, his eyes never leaving her face and refusing to allow his technical superior to interrupt. Something in his expression seemed to make the woman realize that now was not the time to speak. "She was kidnapped by the Decepticons and kept for several days in their possession before she was rescued right before Sentinel's betrayal. She literally spent most of her life around the Autobots in general and Ironhide specifically. She is about to lose someone she considers a member of the family. I can't go with her, but she deserves to say good-bye too."

"But…"

"If you say something about 'paperwork' or 'classified,' you're wasting your breath. She's known about the Autobots longer than _you_ have. If you take Sam, she can go with him. He used to help his girlfriend baby-sit her, so I can trust her with him. If you have even a little empathy for another human being in you at all, you'll let her accompany you and Sam."

She stared at the man for several minutes, not saying a single word. Finally, she sighed and nodded.

"Okay. If I'm allowing Mr. Witwicky to accompany us to the site of launch, I can try to accommodate another, Colonel."

"Thank you," he responded, mildly surprised at his success.

He wasn't Sarah. She was an expert at making those she had no power or authority over obey and fear her. She wielded her personality like a physical weapon against all opponents and she almost always emerged victorious. He didn't have her talent at causing terror in huge transforming Autobots with only her scolding tongue.

But he did know that Annabelle deserved the chance to say good-bye to her friends properly. He couldn't go himself, but she deserved this opportunity. So he'd gone into this verbal battle against Mearing, hoping for the best. And, judging by the result, he'd managed to channel his wife's personality perfectly.

Unfortunately, he still had to share the news of the banishment. He had to inform the Autobots who hadn't already heard, find out how quickly Ratchet could have Ironhide travel ready, and tell Annabelle that, even though she'd just been reunited with the weapon specialist who had barely escaped death, her best friend and the others had to leave the planet.

The decision was wrong, they shouldn't have to leave, but it was out of his hands. He was just the messenger in this case. All he'd managed to do was give his daughter a little more time with her friends.


	11. Tearing Bonds Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know with one hundred percent certainty, but I assume that the Xanthium is supposed to be located somewhere near a normal NASA launch site. The main one on the east coast would be at Cape Canaveral Air Force Station in Florida. Another close one, but lesser used, would be the Wallops Flight Facility in Virginia. Considering that my research indicates that they filmed at least some of "Dark of the Moon" in Florida, I feel confident that Cape Canaveral is the correct location. Unless someone has information to the contrary, that is what I'm going with.
> 
> And I have enough trouble with the twins' speech pattern. I am not going to even attempt giving the Wreckers the proper Cockney accent in this story. I'd probably mess it up anyway. Maybe I should just kill off any character with a difficult speech pattern. Kidding, just kidding… mostly. Hehehe.

It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. It wasn't fair that the Autobots were being forced to leave. It wasn't fair that the world leaders were crazy enough to think that getting rid of a few Cybertronians, the only ones that did not wish them ill, would fix things. It wasn't fair that he was sitting on a private plane with Charlotte Mearing and a disturbingly silent Annabelle Lennox, flying towards a space craft that would take away both his and the little girl's best friends. It wasn't fair that his girlfriend was being held captive and he couldn't tell anyone. It wasn't fair that he was about to be used to spy on the Autobots and his evil watch wouldn't let him warn them. It wasn't fair that, now that he needed the woman's bureaucracy to stop him from giving the Decepticons information, she was actually being _nice_ and accommodating. It wasn't fair he was about to be made into a traitor.

The world wasn't fair. And Sam felt like scum.

Mearing kept explaining that he deserved this chance since he'd been right about Sentinel being the key and about the Decepticons having humans working for them, but all he really wanted was for her to forbid him from being near the Autobots. After all, how was he supposed to dig for info from Optimus if he couldn't get near him? Surely that Dylan guy and his Decepticon buddies would understand that and he could get Mikaela free without having to betray his friends? Unfortunately, fate wasn't that kind and he was going to be allowed the perfect opportunity to turn against them.

Trying to ignore his current situation and to pretend he _didn't_ have some creepy little Decepticon wrapped around his wrist waiting to fry his nervous system at the first sign of trouble, he looked over at Annabelle. The little girl, dressed in pink shorts and a heart t-shirt, was still as a statue, which was not a good sign. He knew this kid. She was should be drawing at the very least. Instead, she was just staring glumly at the large grey hoodie sitting in her lap. Annabelle had gone through a lot lately that would have messed with an older person's head. Kidnapped by aliens, finds out her invincible family guardian was almost killed, and now having to watch her friends leave the entire planet. No wonder she wasn't herself.

From what he had heard, she had not handled the news well. The only good thing about that conversation had been that Annabelle wasn't one to collapse into those kicking and screaming tantrums that small children would occasional do at the mall when their parent told then they couldn't have a toy or ice cream or candy or whatever other luxury they wanted, the kind of hysterical tantrums that leave the adult wishing they could pretend not to be related to the child. If she got upset, she got upset in a focused way that would result in either attacking the school bully or trying to tackle an adult when she was afraid he might accidentally discover Ironhide.

Lennox had taken her aside to tell her in private about the decision to evict the Autobots from Earth, but several of NEST soldiers had wandered near and heard her begging her parent to find a way to fix it, to make the world leaders change their minds and let them stay. When he had explained that he couldn't, she'd apparently just whimpered a quiet "why?" She wanted to know why her friends had to leave, why Ironhide couldn't stay with them anymore, and why her whole world was crumbling around her. The Autobots had been a part of her life since she was an infant and now they would be taken away from her. And she just wanted to know why. The only answer her father had was that people were scared and when people were afraid, they sometimes make decisions they wouldn't normally make.

If Sam had to guess from her expression, he would say that she was currently trying to pretend that none of this was happening. She was simply acting like there was no one else present, that she wasn't flying to Florida to say good-bye, and that it was all just a bad dream. He wished he could sink into denial, but he was too old to believe that ignoring the truth would make it go away.

The world wasn't fair.

* * *

Even a gilded cage is still a cage. Dylan and the Decepticons were keeping her prisoner, watching her relentlessly, but she'd been surrounded by wealth the entire time. The man had kept her in his mansion for a time, "her" car and the freaky bird guarding the perimeter and his servants maintaining visual contact within. The traitor to all humanity offered her a selection of expensive outfits, each in her size and increasing the creep factor. She refused with a choice of words that would likely have left a sailor blushing. They let her wander around slightly since they knew she couldn't leave without being spotted. Mikaela kept an eye out for an opportunity to escape the expensive location, to fight back, but she couldn't find one. She was thoroughly trapped by the rich traitor and his Cybertronian allies.

Now, he was dragging her by one arm towards a helicopter. Normal or Decepticon, she didn't know. What she did know was that they were moving her to a new location; one Sam didn't know about and wouldn't be able to find her after he was forced to do the Decepticons' dirty work. She wanted to elbow that smug Dylan in the face, but she resisted the urge. She needed to bide her time, to act like a nice and docile hostage, until they lowered their guard.

As she sat down in the helicopter, she clutched her small purse close. They had gone through it earlier, removing anything remotely useful. After they inspected the bag, however, she'd managed to find a flat-head screwdriver in one of the junk drawers in the kitchen and slipped it inside. It wasn't much, but it offered her at least the illusion of control in this situation.

Mikaela intended get out of this. She'd find a way to escape this situation. And she hoped with all her heart that Sam and the Autobots got out of their problems before it was too late.

* * *

After they landed, Sam spotted a trio of Autobots that he didn't recognize. A quick questioning glance at Mearing prompted her to explain.

"These guys are the Wreckers. They take care of the Xanthium. We don't let them off the base much because they're," she paused, glancing at Annabelle and correcting her word choice slightly, "idiots."

If they allowed Mudflap and Skids out in public, how bad did these three have to be? As they neared and he could start hearing their arguments with the human personnel, Sam bent down and clamped his hands on the six year old child's ears. She didn't need to know most of those words yet.

He did spot, however, a familiar face. Even with the knowledge of the creepy little Decepticon watch attached to his wrist wasn't able to stop him from smiling a little. Annabelle also spotted the man and broke into a run.

"Epps," she called. "Epps."

Robert Epps, a close friend and long-time fellow soldier to Lennox, grinned at the child and scooped her up easily. He had children of his own, including three daughters, and knew exactly how to pull off that move automatically.

"Hey, Annabelle," he remarked. "Haven't seen you in a while. You've grown."

"What in the world are you doing here?" asked Sam, heading over.

"Hey, Sam. I got tired of always having someone shooting at me," the older man explained, pausing as the dark-haired young man started acting odd. The stupid Decepticon had apparently decided to do a little recon on Epps and was forcing Sam's arm muscles to stiffly and painfully bring the "watch" up to his face so it could get a close look. Did no one ever teach this freaky spy the meaning of the word "subtle"? Epps gave him a mildly freaked out expression before continuing slowly, "So I've been baby-sitting the Wreckers and running interference when their grating personalities rubs against someone else." He shook his head, "This is so messed up, Sam."

"They're making Ironhide and the Autobots leave," mumbled the girl in Epps' arms.

"I heard. And I'm sorry, sweetie," he answered. "I can't believe that anyone would think that getting rid of a few Cyertronians would fix anything." He looked over at Sam, "I take it that the two of you are here to say good-bye before this planet makes the biggest mistake ever."

"Yeah," Sam nodded, trying not to think about how he was also here to be a spy.

Mearing cleared her throat, grabbing the trio's attention and reminding them that they had to get going. The launch wouldn't wait for them. Epps set the little girl down and went back to work.

The bespectacled woman led them to a building. There were plenty of guys working on computer screens and print outs that looked important. At least, his watch that was determined to fry his nerves and yank him around like a puppet to inspect them thought they were important. He had to look like he was possessed, but only one man looked vaguely surprised and concerned with his behavior. Of course, his reaction might have been directly related to the fact that the disguised Decepticon made his arm brush against the guy's hair while trying to catch a look at the computer screen.

A few moments later, a familiar voice carried over to them. Simmons, still alive after being tossed out of his vehicle by a Decepticon, rolled in to the room in a wheelchair. Battered, leg broken, but not defeated, the crazy man had his eyes focused entirely on Mearing. Even at this distance, Sam could hear more than he really wanted to. He'd already seen _far_ too much of Simmons in the past and did not need the mental images that the thought of him and Mearing… No, he didn't need to think about that. Though, if he did _think_ about it, the pair of crazy people would be perfect together.

Annabelle, thankfully not understanding the frantic whispered conversation fully, quietly asked the young man, "Was Simmons her boyfriend?"

"Apparently once," he muttered, shaking his head at the thought.

* * *

He was not some mangy animal. He was a Cybertronian and deserved to be treated with a little respect. Instead, a bunch of guys showed up at the Warrior Goddess and Sam's apartment and telling him and Brains that the Autobots are getting kicked off the planet. Add in the info that Sentinel Prime, the mech that everyone was supposed to be excited about finding on the moon, turned traitor and was delivering an ultimatum. Wheelie knew immediately they were in big trouble. It was a trap.

Of course, he had no intentions of getting caught up in that mess. He'd survived among the Decepticons by knowing when to run away. He'd swiftly changed into his toy truck form and tried to make it to the door. Unfortunately, his usual luck at escaping depended on him being far smaller than his pursuers. Humans had an easier time maneuvering and attempting to chase him than giant mechs, resulting in being snatched up and tossed in a cage with Brains to prevent further attempts. He could technically break out, but they were watching him the entire time.

Now, knowing that he was being dragged towards an obvious trap against his will, he stared as Sam, Annabelle, and a bunch of other people he didn't care about. He was debating with himself on whether or not to try and warn someone again that _this_ was a _trap_. He let this opportunity pass, however, because he suddenly noticed something even more concerning that left him in stunned silence.

Where was his Warrior Goddess?

* * *

The ship was impressive. Just like every kid, Sam had once dreamed of being an astronaut. That particular fantasy had been quickly replaced with whatever his next job idea that day ended up being, but the awe of seeing the large space craft remained. He just wished that this particular ship wasn't going to be taking away their friends.

Annabelle had spotted Ironhide and ran straight towards him. Sam couldn't hear their conversation at this distance, but he was could guess how it was going. The tough weapon specialist, who'd survived being skewered by Sentinel and Ratchet had managed to patch back up to travel condition in record time, had picked her up to face level. He might be the trigger-happy mech who immediately displayed his cannons upon meeting the nervous teenagers that night, but he was also gentle and very protective of the child. It would be difficult for them to say good-bye.

Sam looked up at Optimus Prime. He respected that mech and wished that things were different. From what he'd gathered, Sentinel's betrayal had hit him hard. They'd been close once and it was hard to imagine what the Autobot was going through.

"What your leaders say is true," Optimus commented slowly. "This was all my fault, I told them whom to trust. I was so wrong."

Not sure what to say, Sam tried to reassure the giant mechanical being in front of him, "That doesn't make it your fault. It just makes you human for a change."

Okay, his wording wasn't the best. The phrase "you're only human" didn't quite translate well when you say it to an extraterrestrial being. Still, he hoped he got the concept across that everyone was entitled to be wrong. No one was perfect. He'd been tricked by someone he thought was loyal and trustworthy. Kind of like how Sam was about to trick him…

The Autobot leader seemed to understand what the young man meant and meet his gaze, stating, "Remember this: you may lose your faith in us, but never in yourselves."

Okay, the guilt was increasing. He didn't want to do this to the Autobots. He really didn't want to. They'd already suffered one betrayal from one close ally. They did not deserve to have it happen again. He'd rather die than do that to them.

Unfortunately, his evil watch would not let him get out of that betrayal. When it looked like Optimus was about to turn and walk away, another painful spasm ran through his entire body. It hurt, but it also reminded him that he was not the only one on the line. He could ask the question or he could condemn Mikaela to whatever fate Dylan and the Decepticons chose. Fighting through the pain and guilt, he opened his mouth to deliver the last words he wanted to say.

"I need to know how you're going to fight back." He couldn't meet Optimus' gaze now. He couldn't look the mech in the optic as he betrayed them. "I know there's a strategy. I know your coming back with reinforcements. _Something_. I know there's a plan." He looked straight at him now. He couldn't tell the Autobots the truth, that he was being used to spy on them, since the creep on his wrist could hear him. All he could do was provide a tiny hint and hope for the best. "You can tell me, no other _human_ will ever know."

He silently begged Optimus to notice the stress he placed on the word "human." He wanted the mech to realize that his odd phrasing, saying "no other human" instead of "no one else," meant that the _Decepticons_ would know. It was the only warning he dared risk and he hoped it would be enough.

Whether or not the Autobot leader picked up on the subtle clue, the mech simply replied, "There is no plan."

His unwanted job complete, Sam could honestly ask Optimus a real question, "If we just do what they want, how are we ever going to live with ourselves?"

"You are my friend, Sam," the mech remarked, sending the young man's guilt to even greater heights. "You always will be."

He held nothing but the greatest respect for Optimus since the day they met. The Autobot leader considered him a friend, even after his attempt at normality in college led to ignoring his request for help with the government and the fact Optimus was temporarily killed trying to save him. Granted, Sam had also temporarily died trying to revive the mech. Still, hearing the transformed semi call him a friend after he'd just been used to gather info for the Decepticons was painful for Sam.

Optimus continued, "But your leaders have spoken. From here, the fight will be your own."

With those final words, the mech walked back towards the ship and muttered something to Bumblebee. The yellow Cybertronian walked over to the young man. The best friends looked at each other for a moment. Sam knew that this would be the last time he would ever see his guardian and wanted to remember every detail of the mech. He hadn't known at the time, but "buying" the Camaro years ago was probably the best thing that ever happened to him. It didn't matter that he'd been in danger of dying numerous times since; he could always count on Bee to be there to save him.

They didn't say much to each other. In fact, Sam couldn't even find a single word to express how much he would miss him, how much his friendship meant, and how much he wished there was another way. He had a feeling that Bumblebee had searched through all of audio media for just the right quote, just the right line for this moment. And when Sam heard it, there was nothing left to say.

"I will always be your friend."

He watched the mech, his best friend, head back towards the ship. Behind him, he heard Simmons roll up.

Quietly, the man commented, "Years from now they're going to ask us, 'where were you when they took over the planet'? We're gonna say, 'we stood by and watched'."

* * *

She sat in his hand, staring into his face while trying not to cry. She didn't want to say good-bye. She didn't want them to go away.

"It isn't fair," she whispered. "Can't you stay? Please?"

"I'm sorry, youngling," he answered. "There is no other way. This was humanity's home first and Optimus respects their wishes too much. If you leaders ask us to leave because they believe that is best, we will leave."

"Big dumb meanies," she muttered, deciding that Daddy was right about "stupid paper-pushers and bureaucrats." She wanted to punch them like she did Carl. "You can stay at home," she suggested desperately. "Mommy and Daddy wouldn't tell anyone. Neither would I. Please?" Even as she spoke, she knew he couldn't do that. He followed Optimus Prime and Optimus was just doing what the president and other important people asked. "This is wrong, Ironhide. The Autobots didn't do anything bad, so why are you getting punished? Everything is wrong now."

The weapon specialist stared at her silently. He wasn't as sleepy and sore as when he woke back up. Ratchet was a really good doctor, after all. But she knew he wasn't all better. The transformed ambulance had said Ironhide was "travel ready," but he wouldn't recommend him going into battle unless it was "absolutely necessary". Maybe it was a good thing that he was going to be away from all the bad robots that were now hiding on Earth. He could get all the way better then. But, they were going away forever.

She remembered her cell phone, tucked in her pocket again after Daddy finished washing her clothes. She remembered Ironhide had told her that Wheeljack had made it able to reach the Autobots anywhere in the solar system, not just on Earth. She remembered the weapon specialist complaining about it being overkill, but not in the good way that involved shooting things that he liked. But they were going even farther. She wouldn't be able to even call him anymore.

She quietly mumbled, "I don't want to say good-bye forever, Ironhide. I love you. You're my very best friend ever."

Very gently, the mech brought her close to his still-somewhat-damaged chest in what she recognized as a hug. Carefully, she returned the gesture by wrapping her arms as far as she could. It didn't matter that the metal surface might not be the most huggable surface in the world, but she loved the feel of being close to him. She closed her eyes, never wanting to let go of him. She wanted to stay with her best friend forever. He'd always been there, as long as she could remember. She couldn't imagine not having the black truck sitting in the driveway, not seeing the tall being using his cannons for target practice, or simply not knowing that her favorite Autobot would be at home after a day at school. She couldn't imagine him being gone.

Softly, Ironhide murmured, "I love you too, Annabelle. And I promise that everything will be all right."

The small child relaxed a little. He had never lied to her before. If he said that everything would be all right, it would be. He promised it would and you can't break a promise.

Far too soon, Ironhide set her back down on the ground. She turned and saw Bumblebee walking away from Sam. She knew it was time to go.

"Good-bye, Annabelle Lennox. I am very lucky to have known you," Ironhide stated, turning reluctantly towards the space ship.

"Bye, Ironhide," she whispered, her eyes getting all blurry and hard to see. "I'll miss you lots."

Her feet felt heavy and hard to move as she walked back over to where Sam and the big-headed joker, Mr. Simmons, were. Mr. Simmons was in a wheelchair with a cast on his leg, but it didn't seem to really slow him down much. He was a little sad about the Autobots leaving too, but he wasn't best friends with any of them like Sam and she were.

"I… I need to be alone," muttered Sam softly. He looked at the older man, "Can you watch Annabelle for a little while? Please?"

"The kid? _Her_?" he asked incredulously, staring at her like he expected her to throw a water balloon at him. Slowly, he answered, "Fine, but she needs to behave herself." He turned his wheelchair around and started to roll away, "Come on, Annabelle. We'll go find Dutch and go watch from their 'mission control' room. Lots of cool screens and stuff."

* * *

He found a secluded spot to watch the launch. Sam couldn't stand the idea of being around people at the moment. It was probably the worst day of his life.

As the ship began to take off, his phone rang. Only one person would be calling at that moment. Someone he wished would fall off a cliff. Dylan Gould.

"You heard? I did what you wanted."

"Yes, we heard," the piece of slime confirmed. "We just needed to make sure they would go without a fight."

Suddenly, Sam was hit with a new sense of dread. He caught sight of the first section separating, but his eyes were scanning the sky for something else. Something far worse. The Autobots were in danger.

* * *

Starscream grinned to himself. Finally, a mission worthy of his greatness. With one move, he would eliminate the Autobots. If only taking power from Megatron could be this easy.

He neared the space craft at high speeds. He fired. The explosion destroyed everything. Nothing could have survived.

Feeling smug from his accomplishment, he raced back off to rejoin the rest of the Decepticons.

* * *

The room, filled with monitors and people, fell deathly silent as every screen displayed the same ship becoming engulfed in flames and began tumbling towards the earth once more. Any hope they might have desperately clung to was crashing down alongside the Xanthium. From his motorized wheelchair, Simmons couldn't help feeling a morbid desire to declare "I told you so" to any of the people present who thought banishing the Autobots would serve any purpose except to further dig humanity's own grave.

"Ironhide?" a young, quivering voice asked, breaking the silence and reminding those assembled of the Lennox girl's presence. He looked over to the blond child as she glanced between the closest screen displaying the fiery chaos and a small black phone in her tight grip. "Ironhide, c-can you hear me?"

Simmons quickly realized that she was in possession of a device intended to directly communicate with Autobots, something likely illegal for a private citizen. Apparently the whole "no sharing technology" thing went out the window when it came to the little kid. He also realized she was never going to receive a reply through it again.

When all she heard was silence, she tried again with an increasingly unsteady voice, "O-optimus, are you there? Chromia? R-r-ratchet? Bu-bumble-bumbleb-bumblebee?" By now, tears were rolling down her face. Each name she stuttered into the phone was met with dead silence. "Th-th-this isn't f-funny. W-w-w-wheelie? P-please say something."

No one was saying anything. Simmons couldn't help wondering why none of these people would tell the girl why the Autobots wouldn't, _couldn't_ answer her. Were none of these people who worked here parents? Did no one here have experience with children? They just stood there watching her as her sobs increased and she stammered on her words, trying to choke out her pleas for her dead friends to answer her.

"Iro-iro-ironhi-hi-hide," wept the little girl, clinging to the small black phone desperately, as if it was her last lifeline. "I-iro-iro-iron…"

She stopped trying to speak at this point, simply sliding to her knees limply as sobs shook her small frame. This wasn't the clever little trickster who dodged his questions and made him look like a fool. She was just a child, far from home and surrounded by strangers, who had just lost her best friend. And no one in mission control seemed to know how to react. They were all in shock from the attack and were baffled on how to handle the heart-broken child.

If her father, Sam, or even Epps had been present, Simmons would have left the girl to them. But, since they were undoubtedly watching the disaster from other locations, someone else would have to take responsibility.

Rolling a little closer to the crying little girl, the man reached over and slowly closed her phone. Then, wincing slightly from the bruises and other injuries that a man's is bound to suffer when tossed from a vehicle at high speed by a crazed Decepticon, he pulled the weeping Annabelle into his lap. She quickly curled up and buried her face into his chest, shaking and crying. He had no idea how to comfort a distraught child, but she deserved better than to be left sobbing on the floor while all these strangers stare at her and dozens of screens displayed that burning shape.

"Come on, Dutch," he stated firmly. "We don't need to see any more."

He drove his wheelchair out of the room, the girl still curled up in his lap, while Dutch gave everyone else in the room a scolding look for not reacting to her misery or trying to help in anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm evil...


	12. Broken Hearts, Reforged Courage

He couldn't breathe. Sam just stared as the space craft was swallowed in fire. It seemed impossible. He couldn't believe that he was witnessing the destruction of the ship, seeing the death of so many beings he knew and called his friends.

The Wreckers, who he'd just met that day. Mirage. Wheeljack. The twins, Mudflap and Skids. Sideswipe. Wheelie and Brains, who had lived with him and Mikaela in their apartment. Arcee and Chromia, who had already lost their sister. Ratchet. Ironhide, who had barely escaped death only a short time before. Optimus, the person he respected more than any other mech or human.

Bumblebee. His car, his guardian, his best friend.

They were all gone.

Abruptly, the Decepticon watch released its grip on his wrist and skittered away. The young man lashed out, trying to squash the evil creature that had ensured that his last act towards the Autobots was one of betrayal. He failed in that attempt, but he suddenly realized that the small Cybertronian didn't matter anymore. What did matter was that he was no longer the puppet. He was no longer under surveillance.

Jumping up, Sam broke into a run. He was on a mission.

* * *

Still a hostage, still despising the man leading her around by her elbow, still visualizing sinking her stolen screwdriver into his head, but in a new city now. Mikaela didn't feel that this was anything close to an improvement, but Dylan seemed satisfied. She had no idea what he'd been talking about to Sam over the phone. He'd said something about "them leaving without a fight" in a tone that sent a chill down her spine, but he didn't say anything else. She could guess it dealt with the Autobots, but she could somehow tell that he meant something more than them leaving the planet.

"Welcome to Chicago," Dylan remarked, leaving the helicopter pad while she glared at the traitor to humanity.

* * *

He promised.

Ironhide promised that everything would be all right. And he would never lie to her. But she saw the space ship explode like one of the targets when Ironhide shot it. She saw it destroyed and no one would answer her. And they should have answered her, she _knew_ Ironhide would have said something if he could.

They were all gone, but not like they just moved away or left the planet like they were supposed to. Like Suzie's dog after it was hit by a car. Like poor Jolt and Flareup. Gone forever and ever.

She didn't know why Mr. Simmons had picked her up like that. She'd been crying really hard, that bad type of crying that wasn't very loud, but kept getting worse until you can't stop. Then, the "big-headed joker" had pulled her into his lap. He wasn't Daddy or anything, but she was too sad to care. She'd latched on, burying her head into his suit and curled up into a little ball. He rolled his wheelchair out of the room, away from the television screens, but she could still see the space ship falling every time she closed her eyes. She was still sobbing and choking harshly, probably getting his fancy nice clothes covered in snot and all messy. Mr. Simmons didn't seem to mind though. Maybe he was actually kind of nice after all.

"Not one of those _supposedly_ intelligent people has the slightest idea of what to do about a crying kid," muttered the man under his breath, placing a hand on her back in a small attempt to be reassuring. "Plenty of knowledge, not a hint of common sense. Not that I'm surprised."

Slowly, her sobs began to slow, no longer shaking her as hard with each choking breath. She was still sad, but her crying was exhausting and she didn't have the energy to keep it up indefinitely. She felt like there was a painful lump in her chest that wouldn't move.

"Autobot traitors. Humans working for the Decepticons. The Xanthium destroyed," Mr. Simmons continued to rant quietly to himself. "Innocent kids don't deserve to be exposed to this. They can't handle it and shouldn't have to."

"Most people think 'innocence' means that a child is too ignorant of the world to understand. That they cannot see the world for what it is," remarked Dutch, the red-haired man who talked kind of different who worked for Mr. Simmons now. "I would like to think that they are less blinded by the distrust and suspicions adults gain from experience. An innocent child is not one who cannot see what is right in front of them; they are often the only ones who can see the truth of things."

The man in the wheelchair was silent for a few moments before asking, "That… sounded oddly deep and profound. Anymore Zen teachings to share, Dutch?"

After thinking a second, he answered, "I'm a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar."

"What in the world does that one mean?"

"No idea."

Even as miserable and tired as she was, Annabelle couldn't help providing a watery and weak giggle at the red-haired man's tone.

"That's more like the annoying pest I know," Simmons remarked, patting her back. "Let's see if we can find the Witwicky kid. Or that Epps person. Or anyone with experience with children, really. Because I didn't even have siblings growing up, kid."

Nodding tiredly and sniffling, she slid back down to the floor. She knew his leg probably hurt, so she probably shouldn't be sitting on him. She glanced between Mr. Simmons and Dutch, trying to regain her voice.

"W-what do we do n-now?" Annabelle asked quietly.

The black-haired man shrugged, "I have no…"

"Simmons," Sam shouted, rounding the corner at high speed. "Simmons, I need your help. My phone. Mikaela kidnapped. Track him."

"Slow down, Witwicky," he ordered, waving his hands placatingly. "What?"

"My phone, my phone. Dylan Gould, he works for the Decepticons. He has Mikaela. He just called and I need to find him now. I'm going after her. Can you track him?"

Mikaela was in trouble now? She liked the older girl. She was fun and nice. She used to baby-sit before she moved away. Why would someone kidnapper her?

"Dutch is genius at this sort of thing," nodded Simmons, taking the cell phone from Sam. "We'll find that traitor."

Another traitor. Like Sentinel Prime, only a human being this time. Annabelle hated the idea someone mean could pretend to be nice so they could hurt her friends. At least Barricade never tried to act like a good guy. He was mean as soon as she met him.

Traitors kept doing really bad things to people she knew. A traitor, Dylan Gould, had taken Mikaela like how Laserbeak stole her from her yard. And Sentinel Prime attacked the Autobots after pretending to be on their side. He killed Jolt and Flareup. He hurt Ironhide really badly… Someone needed to stop them.

But she couldn't do anything about it. Mikaela needed a real hero to fix things. A real hero like the NEST soldier people. A real hero like Daddy. A real hero like…

Ironhide.

If he was here, he'd fix things. He'd go find Mikaela, fire his cannons at all the bad robots, and rescue her from the traitor. Even if that Sentinel meanie _did_ manage to hurt him, that didn't mean he wasn't the toughest and best Autobot in the world at beating up bad robots. He could've handled a mean human. If he was still here…

Sam, Mr. Simmons, and Dutch were doing something with the phone and computer. She was quietly fading into the background, letting them forget that she was there. She was thinking.

Ironhide wasn't here anymore. He _couldn't_ be the hero they needed. Somebody else would have to save the day. Sam said he was going to save her, but he might need help. He didn't have Bumblebee, just like she didn't have Ironhide. They needed as much help as possible, someone to be a new hero.

Maybe… maybe she could…

She took a step back, away from the gathered group. Ironhide said, before he… He said that she actually helped him. That her phone call warned him about the Autobot traitor. And heroes help people…

The girl took another step away from the focused older people. Mikaela needed a hero. Dylan Gould needed to be punished. And Sentinel needed to be stopped from ever hurting anyone again.

"I need to use the restroom," she muttered, walking away from the distracted adults. "Bye."

She knew that, any time you go on a long car trip, it was important to use the bathroom first. Her involuntary trip with the Decepticons had proven that to her. She had plenty of practice lately sitting quietly in a vehicle for hours.

Ironhide wouldn't stay behind and wait. He would do something. He'd take action. He'd be a hero and save the day. And if he couldn't do it anymore…

She would.

* * *

Chicago. Mikaela was in Chicago. Along with that slime, Dylan. And one way or another, he was going to get her out of there. He'd lost his best friend. He wouldn't lose his girlfriend.

Sam raced out of the building as soon as he had a definite location. He had a long way to go, but he was ready. He had a plan.

Step one: go to Chicago. Step two: save Mikaela.

Okay, the details were a little vague, but that didn't matter. No power on Earth, or from Cybertron, would stop him.

As he headed out, a voice caught his attention. The young man turned, spotting the ex-NEST member.

"We'll take my car," Epps announced, hitting the unlock button on his keys. The responding beep emerged from a vehicle a short distance away. "I still got my NEST friends out there. I'm going to round them up, we'll find your girlfriend and we're going to bring this guy in."

Sam paused for a moment, staring at the older man, before asking, "Why are you helping me?"

Epps' answer was short, simple and in no uncertain terms: Sam wasn't the only one who had lost friends when that ship was destroyed. The younger man was on a rescue mission and for revenge; the older one wanted the exact same thing.

He accepted the offered ride, heading towards the passenger seat. Just as he opened the door, Sam could have sworn he heard a soft click. As if another door had just closed. Of course, his increased paranoia since the "Soundwave was my girlfriend's car and her boss is evil" thing meant he had to glance back quickly just to be safe, but he only saw what appeared to be a crumpled grey blanket in the floor.

* * *

He watched the primitive human city fall before the might of Cybertronians. Once, he might have felt a slight twinge of guilt at what he was doing, but having watched the war between Autobots and Decepticons ravage their home and end so many lives, he felt nothing as the organic creatures were removed from the site. Sentinel Prime knew that he once would have defended the humans, fought against their destruction and enslavement. He once would never have considered aligning himself with Decepticons. His sense of morality would have stopped him once. But that was a long time ago.

He remembered Cybertron's Golden Age. He remembered the majesty of their world in those days. Thinking of all they had lost due to their war, thinking of their home reduced to a lifeless rock, and knowing that he could restore it made it easier to ignore any lingering doubts about whether or not he was taking the right course of action.

Sentinel saw that trying to protect his previous beliefs of freedom and justice to such a degree as before was destroying everything. The whole planet was doomed and so many lives were ended. The Autobots and Decepticons were leaving nothing but chaos behind with their battles. They needed a strong leader to drag them back on course, to bring them back to a time of glory. A leader who could make the hard decisions needed for their survival. And he was the mech who could be that leader. He could lead them back to their glory days, to help them forge a better future for all Cybertronians, and to rule over them to ensure that they never took such actions again.

He had made a deal with Megatron. The least moral and trustworthy mech in the universe, but one who knew how to run several plans simultaneously to ensure that at least one succeeded. The Decepticon leader could manipulate his treacherous ranks across the cosmos effectively to bring the Autobots to the brink of defeat. But even if he won, he was intelligent enough to realize that he could not rule a dead planet. The deal was struck and Megatron devised a secret plan involving the space bridge pillars and AllSpark to conquer and save their home.

The AllSpark was gone. The Solar Harvester, which had been found during his long stint in stasis and was the mech's back-up plan since he thought Sentinel was lost, was also gone. But the discovery of the Matrix of Leadership offered a possibility to revise the plan, though the AllSpark was no longer available. They needed another way to rebuild and, with the Cybertronians scattered to the stars, they needed a cheap work force.

The humans would serve that purpose. Six billion workers, even small and weak ones that break so easily, was a decent start to restore their world. And, since they're so short-lived, it would take very little time to have a whole new generation of compliant workers who would obey their betters perfectly. Until then, slaughtering a few thousands or even a few million would make the remaining lesser beings obey through fear.

Sentinel knew that the others, the Autobots who thought that they could simply call this planet home and leave Cybertron in its current state, would never agree to such a measure. They had turned their backs on their world, willing to take refuge on a primitive planet at the mercy of the organic creatures that inhabit it. They were willing to be treated like machines when they could have ruled these humans like gods.

He knew the soft-sparked Cybertronians would protect the humans out of some antiquated sense of honor and morality. Optimus Prime would never accept the idea of slavery, even if it would save their home planet. He might have fought the war in Sentinel's absence, but he was still so naïve. He still clung to the same beliefs that led to that endless war. Those who followed that mech would fight until they were off-lined to defend the humans because they were loyal to Optimus and _he_ would do it. They were simply blind and unwilling to adapt, to do what must be done. Surely warriors who fought numerous battles understood the concept of sacrifice?

Briefly, Sentinel wondered why he did not accept the Matrix of Leadership when Optimus offered it. Perhaps a small part of him still wanted to believe in those antiquated beliefs as well, the ones he once defended and the younger mech still did. Even if he knew that they could not win if they continued as they had, part of him still remembered what it was like to stand for those beliefs. Maybe… that part of him didn't believe that he was worthy of the Matrix of Leadership after every choice he'd made and those he intended to make.

That part of him would never have allied with Megatron. Never enslaved a sentient species. Never would have off-lined his fellow Autobots. But he knew it was necessary. The deal with the Decepticons would ensure Cybertron's restoration. The humans would repair the eons of damage to the planet. And the Autobots would never have changed and would have fought against the steps Sentinel was taking to save their home.

Humanity's freedom would be sacrificed for the good of Cybertron. It was the only way.

The red mech watched the metallic figures spread across the city, commenting, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

* * *

Curled up in her giant grey hoodie, completely hidden inside the fabric from sight, Annabelle stayed very still. It was going to be a long trip probably and the older people wouldn't want her to go. Daddy and Mommy would definitely say 'no' if she asked permission. So she didn't ask. Besides, Daddy was busy with all the bad robots that showed up after Sentinel turned bad. And Mommy was supposed to be waiting for her at home, though Mommy hadn't been happy with the idea of just waiting around. So the little girl was able to slip away quickly.

She wouldn't let Sam or Epps know she was there. They'd tell her to go back or something. Whenever they stopped, she would wait a little so they could get away from the car so she could sneak out, use the restroom, and get back in without them seeing her. They kept meeting up with other people and talking about what they expected to find. It didn't sound good, but she missed a lot of the conversation. It was easier to keep quiet and still when she was asleep.

She didn't know what she would do when she got there. Chicago was another city, which meant there'd be lots of people and buildings there. How would she find Mikaela and the bad guys? She couldn't go with Sam and everyone since she wasn't supposed to be with them. She'd have to sneak after them. And, even if she found them, what would she do? She didn't have cannons like Ironhide. And Daddy told her to never, ever, _ever_ touch a gun and even Ironhide agreed that she couldn't touch one until she was older and properly trained, so she couldn't even consider that. She didn't even have a water balloon. How would she ever beat the bad guys and save her favorite human baby-sitter?

* * *

The room was filled with people simply trying to figure out one thing: what in the world was happening in Chicago? Something big was happening. The Decepticons were there and had, essentially, taken control of the entire area. They had no other information, however. And it frustrated Mearing.

"Excuse me," interrupted Simmons, rolling into the room. "Excuse me, it doesn't make sense. Can't we get any eyes in there at all?"

"They keep shooting down our drones," she answered quickly.

General Morshower, another man with experience dealing with Cybertronians, added, "They want us blind. But we do have a couple of mini drones we're going to try."

"Well, whoever's manning these UAV drones, can we try to redirect them toward Trump Tower? The kid, Witwicky, was on his way to Chicago. Said some point man, human op is there for the Decepticons," remarked the wheelchair-bound man. "Listen, if I know anything, I know this. That that kid is an alien bad news magnet."

Before she could accuse the man she once felt at least mildly attracted to of over exaggerating, his German-accented assistant ran into the room with a frantic expression on his face. He quickly spotted his employer and closed the distance between them.

"Find her?" asked Simmons urgently.

"I looked everywhere. She is nowhere to be found," Dutch replied.

Mearing interrupted, "Excuse me, but who are you talking about."

"The Lennox kid. Annabelle," answered the black-haired man. "She disappeared a little while ago and we need to find her."

"Wasn't she recently kidnapped by the Decepticons?" she asked, recalling the child she escorted with Sam.

"Yeah, that's her," he nodded. "We have _got_ to get a LoJack on that kid."

Dutch asked, "Should I keep looking?"

"No, I need you here," Simmon responded, shaking his head regretfully. "I just hope she turns up soon. I don't want to have to tell her parents that we lost her."

"Afraid of her father?" Mearing asked, smirking slightly.

"No. Her mother," he corrected. He glanced at Dutch, "I don't think even _you_ could protect me if Mrs. Lennox catches wind of this."

The red-haired man look vaguely insulted at the dismissal of his capabilities, but Simmons waved his hand placating. He glanced at Mearing for a second and gave her a sheepish grin.

"Charlotte, you might think you're an intimidating woman, but Sarah Lennox could leave Megatron whimpering in fear."


	13. Chicago

Trapped in this expensive penthouse while the Decepticons took over the city, Mikaela felt nothing but disgust for her fellow human in the room. Dylan Gould, for all his excuses about inheriting this problem from his father and being on the winning side, betrayed humanity. He sold out his own species so that he could have at least _some_ power. And though he claimed not to have expected what was going on in the streets below, humans being directly attacked by the aggressive Cybertronians and reduced to nothing, she knew that he couldn't be that surprised. What do you expect of a group of beings that consider humanity as mere insects?

People were dying down there. Even from this height, she could see it. The Decepticons weren't just killing humans; they were vaporizing them. It was like a nightmare and she was trapped in the middle of it. And she couldn't even fight back.

Laserbeak was still somewhere in the area. She'd seen him skulking about, changing into a flat-screen television or a stereo a few times. He was still spying and guarding, even when the whole city was being conquered.

She'd also spotted Sentinel Prime outside. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he wasn't there to rescue her either. He was setting up the space bridge pillars around the building, apparently intent on the task of placing the control pillar. It even took the mech a moment to notice Megatron's arrival.

"The city is secured," remarked the Decepticon leader. "The humans cannot stop us."

The red mech acknowledged, "As the afternoon falls, the rest of the pillars will reach their launch position."

"This is the victory I've promised you," commented Megatron, sounding a little smug, "so many years ago, where we rebuild Cybertron together."

Apparently something in his tone annoyed the traitor. He reached over sharply and grabbed the Decepticon's head. For a split second, Mikaela could have sworn that Megatron resisted the grip easily, but then he quickly succumbed to the pressure. Sentinel shook the mech like a third-grade bully would pick on a first grader, ignoring the murderous glow in those red optics.

"I have agreed to work _with_ you that our planet may survive. I will never work _for_ you," snarled the red-armored Cybertronian. "And you'll be wise to remember the difference."

With a shove, he tossed Megatron off the building and went back to work. Mikaela didn't know if Sentinel was just that brave or just that foolish, but she would never use that tone with someone who looked like they were just barely restraining themselves from ripping her apart. And the Decepticon leader looked furious with the red mech.

* * *

He'd expected things to be bad, but not this bad. The city of Chicago looked like some post-apocalyptic nightmare that would eventually lead to apes ruling the world or "Mad Max." The Decepticons had destroyed the city and everyone in it.

The ground was covered in a layer of ash and every now and then, he could see the remnants of a human skeleton. The poor souls looked as if the mechs had simply vaporized their flesh. And that was possibly exactly what happened. Epps could see why the Autobots were so concerned about handing over their technology if it could do this to the population of the planet. It is always harder putting the genie back in the bottle once freed, even if they tried to keep such things only in responsible hands.

How many people, innocent civilians who simply lived in this city, had died? Men on their way to work? Women out shopping? Kids enjoying their summer off? All of them gone because of the actions of beings from another world, beings who saw them as mere insects to be exterminated. It would be nearly impossible to identify most of them; they'd have to compare dental records and hope for the best. Giving them a proper burial with a grave marker to declare which poor victim was which would be a nearly unimaginably difficult task. And that was assuming they'd ever have the opportunity to bury them. It assumed that the Decepticons wouldn't win this time.

He'd imagined what they'd encounter here. Even with the reports that managed to come through before the whole city was lost didn't prepare him for this. So many mechs with so many deadly resources. Ships hung over the buildings, hunting down survivors and eliminating them. It was overkill; like hunting rabbits with a Gatling gun. Epps thought he knew what he'd agreed to, but the scale and magnitude was too much.

"We came here to find her in the middle of all that?" he exclaimed in stunned horror.

One of the NEST soldiers who'd volunteered to accompany them asked, "Are we really going out there, Epps?"

Another, "Hardcore" Eddie, remarked in mild panic, " _I'm_ not going in there."

As much as it pained him to admit it, it would be suicide to go in. They had weapons, but were too lightly armed and lacked any real intel on the situation. They couldn't depend on any back-up, human or Autobot, to assist them. They had nothing.

"No one's going in," Epps stated.

A certain young man disagreed, "I am. With or without you, I'll find her."

And, with that insane declaration, he started marching forward towards the chaos. He was absolutely determined to finish what he came here to do. And Epps couldn't let him do that. The older man ran after him, refusing to let him throw his life away.

"You're going to get yourself killed, Sam. Is that what you want?" he asked, begging the young man to reconsider his choice. "Is that what you want? You came all the way out here to get yourself killed? Listen to what I'm saying."

Sam snapped back, "She's here because of me. Do you understand?"

Love was a strong motivator. He'd seen that plenty of times. People would do anything for those important to them, even if it flew straight in the face of common sense. And, sometimes, those crazy people could pull off miracles for those they cared for. But too many times, they end up buried in the ground. And Epps refused to let that happen to Sam. He had to make the dark-haired boy see reason.

The former-Nest soldier held tight the impulsive younger man, his eyes locked on his. He refused to let him take one step forward. Even if Sam hated him for standing in his way, he couldn't let him march to his death when there was no hope.

"Listen, if you go in this building," he explained. "That's _if_ she's still alive," he stressed the word, trying to make him see the futility of continuing; to make him realize that his death would not save Mikaela. "There's no way you're going to be able to reach her."

Unwilling to give up and still determined to press forward, Sam simply asked, "What do you suggest I do?"

"It's over," Epps stated, hating himself for having to tell the young man who still wanted to save his girlfriend this painful truth. "I'm sorry, but it's over."

Before the stubborn individual could either accept this fact or continue to argue, a noise overhead grabbed the entire group's attention. Epps was already pushing Sam towards cover even as his mind caught up and recognized it as the sound of an engine. A big engine. The engine of one of the freaky Decepticon ships racing across the sky intent on murder.

This day keeps getting better and better.

* * *

As quickly as possible, she slipped out of the car. There were lots of people with Sam and Epps now, all of them with uniforms and guns to fight bad robots with, but they were all looking away from her at all the broken buildings. She didn't have time to look yet, however. If any of them saw her, they'd be really mad at her. And if any of the bad robots saw her, it would just be really bad. Annabelle knew that it would be like the biggest game of hide-and-seek ever played and everyone else was "it."

She ran. Quietly and quickly, she ran. There was lots of broken stuff to hide behind and no one spotted her as they talked about whether or not they were really going in to the city. She spotted an alley between two buildings that were mostly broken and slipped through to the next street. Stumbling and tripping, she ran to the _next_ street over.

Finally, she felt like she was far enough away that the soldier people and Sam wouldn't find her easily and stopped to catch her breath. She also could look around now and see what sort of place Chicago was.

Mostly, it was broken. Lots of buildings had holes or broken glass. Cars were all smashed up or left in the middle of the road instead of in parking places. Some wires were torn free and lay along the ground, occasionally sparking. She planned to stay away from those.

There was a lot of ash and dust on the ground, getting blown around by the wind. Somebody really needed to clean up. But they'd need a really big vacuum if they wanted to do a good job.

And she wondered if Chicago had Halloween earlier than at home. It looked like somebody had tried to decorate for the holiday a little, but they didn't have jack-o-lanterns or spider webs or bats. Instead, they left skeletons all over the place. And they weren't even the green ones that glowed in the dark. They needed to work on their decorating skills. It wasn't really Halloween if they didn't have a grinning jack-o-lantern at least.

Abruptly, several people started running towards her in a panic. Annabelle ducked down behind a big piece of concrete with little metal sticks in it. She remembered seeing those types of sticks before at a constructions site. Mommy said they were called rebar and they put them inside concrete to make it stronger. She also remembered that one of the men in the hard hats had whistled at Mommy, but she glared at him and he got really pale.

The people, grownups with dirty and messy clothes, scurried past her hiding spot. Some were screaming or crying, but others were just really quiet. She decided they'd run into a Decepticon and were scared of him. The little girl hoped they got away. She also hoped the bad robot didn't find her. How could she find and rescue Mikaela if a Decepticon found her first?

She couldn't get scared. She couldn't be worried about how much trouble she would be in, how far away Mommy and Daddy were, and how many bad robots were supposed to be in the city. She couldn't think about how hard it would be to find her baby-sitter in all this mess. She couldn't doubt her abilities just because she had no idea where to start. She couldn't be afraid and stay in her hiding place all day. She was on a mission.

Standing up, her eyes narrowed with determination, she started walking into the city. This is what being a hero is supposed to be about: helping people no matter what. Mikaela needed to be rescued, so she would rescue her. The traitors, Sentinel Prime and Dylan Gould, needed to be punished for doing bad things to her friends, so they would be punished.

"Daddy would do this," she stated to herself firmly. "He's a hero and never quits. Ironhide…" The child's throat tightened, making it hard to speak, but she forced herself to continue, "would do this. He was a hero and never let the bad guy stop him." She raised her chin proudly, "I'll never quit and the bad guys won't stop me. I stood up to Carl when he said mean things about aliens. I stood up to Barricade to protect Carl from getting hurt. I warned Ironhide…" again, she felt like she was choking at when she said his name and, this time, her eyes began to water a little. Swallowing hard against the sensation and blinking rapidly, she finished, "I warned him about Sentinel. I can do this. I _will_ do this."

As the last word left her mouth, she heard loud crashing and blasting sounds from the direction she left Sam, Epps, and the others. Cringing at the noise, she broke into a run. She ran away from the sounds, but towards the city. Nothing would stop her from her mission.

* * *

Once again, Sam knew he was about to die. Odd how familiar that sensation was by this point. He didn't even get the whole "life flash before your eyes" thing anymore. He just had a mental equivalent of someone shrugging and saying "eh, what are you going to do about it?" while his body tried to start running. His whole fight-or-flight instincts were getting another work-out. Imminent death was not nearly as terrifying as it used to be.

Chaos erupted as the NEST soldiers tried to fire at the Decepticon ship, trying to stop it from turning them into little vaporized skeletons too. They didn't have a chance, but they intended to try. None of them intended to go down without a fight.

Then, something fired and struck the ship. It didn't look like it particularly damaged it badly; the blast just seemed to hit it at the perfect angle to send it careening out of control to the ground. Someone had good aim. And more firepower than any of them was carrying.

Sam turned, not certain what he expected to see. His jaw dropped and his thoughts froze as he glimpsed a familiar red and blue shape. One that he never thought he'd see again. He was willing to bet he looked pale and like he was about to collapse.

In essence, the young man looked like he was seeing a ghost. For good reason.

* * *

Some decisions had consequences beyond what you expect. They may have costs higher than you'd hoped or predicted. No matter how many variables you might try to take into account, there are times when a difficult decision has to be made and you know that you can only hope for the best.

He knew, even as he accepted the decision by the planet's leaders to leave, that it was a mistake. He'd heard Sentinel's message and knew that his former mentor's words could no longer be trusted. The mech had attacked and betrayed those who trusted him, exclaiming that Cybertronians were like gods. And gods do not relinquish their followers easily. He would not leave the humans alone; he had other intentions for the inhabitants of this world.

Even more important, he would allow no one to threaten his power or his plan to restore Cybertron at any cost. And Sentinel knew that banishing his former allies off the planet would not be enough. Optimus understood his old mentor's thought process well enough, once he recognized that the mech no longer followed any type of morality, and could predict that there was some type of plan in motion to ensure that none of the Autobots could interfere ever again.

Optimus warned the others, carefully and one by one over the com-link, of his intentions to remain on Earth while allowing the Decepticons to believe they'd left. If their enemies intended to take more drastic measures to prevent them from ever returning, they would not be on-board the ship. It was a plan with risks, especially since it would limit their ability to help their human allies for a time, but it was the only way. They did not have the numbers or firepower to take on the Decepticon forces directly, especially if they were prepared for them. Surprise would be their only advantage.

He would have preferred to inform the humans of this plan, especially those they trusted most. But, when he heard Sam's carefully chosen warning, he realized the Decepticons were listening in even more closely than he first expected. They were listening in and the extent of their infiltration was unknown. No one, not NEST, Sam, or anyone else, could know of their plan for that reason. And when the Xanthium was destroyed moments after launch, Optimus knew that he had made the right decision to ensure the safety of the Autobots under his command.

He also realized that no one could learn of their survival either. That decision was harder to follow since, immediately after the failed assassination of their group, Annabelle Lennox attempted to contact them. The child connected to several of their com-links, hoping that they were still on-line. While Wheeljack had assured them that her communication device's signal could not be hacked into, Sam's warning caused doubts of what the Decepticons could overhear. None of them could answer the girl, regardless of her pleas. It was safer for them and the only way to ensure that they could still possess the element of surprise, but anyone could see that it was the hardest for Ironhide not to respond to her emotional begging.

As soon as they were on land again, they drove at the top speed they could manage without revealing their continued existence. But even that was not enough. In the time it took to reach the city of Chicago, the Decepticons had destroyed untold numbers of lives. Humans had been killed by the scores, unable to escape or defend themselves against the larger and stronger opponents. They did not fall in battle. Most had never fought before against enemies their own size and strength. Innocent civilians had been slaughtered as they tried to flee their city, their home.

Though there had been little he would have been able to do to prevent these deaths, Optimus could not help feeling guilty for all the lives lost. But he also felt fury towards the Decepticons for these actions. These people, men, women, and children who once called this city home, had offered no threat. They had simply been in the city that the Cybertronians had decided to claim. There had been no tactical reason to slaughter them and to keep hunting down the survivors in the wreckage. They were only doing for sport, for their twisted amusement at harming smaller beings. Humanity did not deserve this.

They had pushed him too far this time. The Fallen was willing to condemn an entire planet to death by extinguishing the sun, but that was a more detached and impersonal. This time, the inhabitants of Earth were being slaughtered merciless. They were being killed like an infestation of vermin. He could not, _would_ not let this continue for even another moment unchallenged.

They arrived in time to see one Decepticon ship threatening a group of NEST soldiers and Sam. The Autobot leader refused to allow this. The Decepticons had gone far enough. He fired at the ship, sending it down to earth roughly.

The group of humans turned back, towards Optimus and the Autobots with him. Sam looked particularly stunned, though all of them seemed unprepared for the sight of the Cybertronians.

Optimus gave the area a final glance, noting all the signs of destruction and death that littered the city, before declaring grimly, "We will kill them all."

The Decepticon pilot started trying to climb out of his crashed ship, snarling as he tried to get free and attack. Ironhide stepped forward and fired once, taking off the mech's head. The weapon specialist nodded in satisfaction as the Decepticon stopped moving.

"They don't make them like they used to," smirked the transformed truck, apparently pleased to be able to shoot _something_.

"Your leaders will now understand," Optimus stated. "Decepticons will never leave your planet alone. And we needed them to believe we had gone. For today, in the name of freedom, we take the battle to them."

Sam, finally managing to get over his shock enough to attempt speech again, remarked dumbly, "I saw your ship blow up."

"The ship?" scoffed Roadbuster. "We were never _in_ the ship."

The Wrecker reminded the young man that they had designed the thing, so they knew exactly what they were doing in that situation.

Leadfoot clarified, "We were hidden in the first booster rocket to separate, splashed down back in the Atlantic just as planned. We ain't going nowhere."

"Yeah, no one's exiling us," exclaimed Brains.

The smaller pair of ex-Decepticons clambered over an abandoned car, climbing to near eye-level for the gathered humans and joining the discussion.

"The Autobots are staying right here. We're going to help you win this war," declared Wheelie firmly.

Optimus turned his attention to the chaotic city once more, commenting, "They're surrounding the city to make a fortress so that no one can see what they're up to inside. Our only chance is the element of surprise."

"I think I know where to look," remarked Sam, stepping forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I want to make one thing clear. I am highly ticked off at the people who say that "Optimus stood by and let all those people in Chicago die to make a point." I refuse to believe that the Autobot leader just sat back, watched the massacre, and waited until he felt that humanity had learned its lesson. Sam and Epps were traveling from the near the same location the Xanthium was destroyed (and the rocket booster fell into the ocean off the coast of that area). They practically drove non-stop to Chicago and the Autobots showed up about the same time that Sam's group arrived. That kind of indicates that the Autobots would have drove non-stop too in order to get there at the same time. They were traveling during the time that Chicago was being turned into a disaster area, so how could they have prevented the Decepticons from attacking during that time? They couldn't, thus Optimus didn't "let all those people die" to prove a point. He just couldn't get there quick enough to stop it. And he is not happy about it.
> 
> Okay, mini-rant over. Back to normal stuff.


	14. Rescue

It took a miracle, but they finally managed to get a view of Chicago. Unfortunately, their first view of the windy city was not very promising. Destroyed buildings, empty streets, and Decepticon vessels occupying the skies, the desolate sight took up the screens in the room. And there was not a sign of human life anywhere.

"Are you telling me that Sam was headed there?" whispered Mearing.

Simmons shook his head, "Poor kid. Probably never got close."

* * *

Still trying to get used to the idea that the Autobots _weren't_ dead, Sam watched Bumblebee poking around the crashed Decepticon ship. He'd just gotten used to the idea he would never see any of these Cybertronians again and then they just show up in the nick of time to save them. It had been hard to accept at the time they were gone, but the young man managed. Now, while he was still worried about his girlfriend and his own safety in this place, Sam felt impossibly relieved to learn that they survived. It was hard to change his mental gears that much, but he was happy to have his guardian back.

The mech seemed to be trying to figure out exactly how badly it was damaged by Optimus' blast. Or maybe he was trying to decide if it was even possible to make thing work.

Carefully, the young man asked, "You _do_ know how to fly this thing, right?"

The yellow Autobot reached out a servo and moved it in a very familiar and very discomforting gesture.

"'So-so'? What do you mean you can fly it so-so?" questioned Sam, feeling less than confident with the plan.

Of course, it was a far better plan than his original one. He came to the city with no clearer plan than "find Mikaela," so practically anything was an improvement of what he'd devised. And, of course, his plans had originally had one key detail that had since changed: he couldn't expect any help from the Autobots. Even if Bumblebee could only fly the ship "so-so," the fact that Sam could count of the yellow mech's help made his goal seem so much more likely. His guardian and best friend had never let him down yet, so it seemed likely that things would work out now.

"Okay," muttered the young man to himself. "Time to fly in a questionably-safe vehicle and save 'Kaela from the evil rich guy."

"Well, I'm coming with you two," remarked Wheelie, rolling forward.

"What?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at the cowardly and unarmed mech's statement.

"No one messes with _my_ Warrior Goddess and gets away with it," he explained, looking far more stubborn than the young man could ever remember seeing the tiny Cybertronian before. "We're busting her out, Sammy-boy."

As much as the ex-Decepticon got on his nerves, always trying to insert himself between the pair of humans and acting like being her boyfriend made Sam the Cybertronian's worst enemy, he knew that Wheelie _did_ care about Mikaela. Whenever he called her "Goddess," there was not a hint of sarcasm in his voice. The former Decepticon might not have that many qualities that would make Sam forgive the mechanical pest for always clinging to his girlfriend relentlessly and making small comments against him, but the fact that he genuinely cared for her well-being was one. The dark-haired young man smiled slightly at the transformed toy truck.

"Come on, robo-rat. Might as well get all the insanity on board," he agreed.

* * *

She wandered around the penthouse, ignoring the maids and human guards equally. Mikaela knew that Laserbeak was currently disguised as a flat-screen television and Dylan was trying to convince himself that the insanity outside was not _really_ his fault. She was looking for a way out. Some kind of distraction, some new element to the situation that she could take advantage of to get out of this place. She'd rather take her chances out there, on the streets with the large murderous Decepticons, than to stay inside with the creepy transforming bird and the traitor to all humanity. She just needed the chance to act.

How could things be this bad? According to Dylan and what she'd overheard from the Cybertronians, humanity would be enslaved and, once the space bridge brought Cybertron here, they'd be used to repair their world. It sounded insane, like the plot of corny old sci-fi movie that came out in the fifties. Of course, her entire life was one long sci-fi movie, though she wasn't always certain if she was supposed to be the shallow love interest of the hero or the generic extra of the film. Maybe, after taking out a few Decepticons over the years, she could fit herself into the hero role sometimes. Right now, Chicago was experiencing one of the "mass invasion" movies and she didn't know how it would be stopped.

She stared out one of the huge windows, watching a Decepticon ship approach. Its flight pattern was a little erratic, not nearly as controlled as all the other vehicles she'd observed so far. Maybe it had a student driver or something. She didn't know for certain, but her curiosity was peaked. She watched it circle the building out of her sight, wondering where that particular Cybertronian learned to fly.

Mikaela closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. Regardless of the Decepticon's driving ability or lack thereof, it didn't help her. She needed a plan or even just a break. She'd sell her first born for a car. If she could get to the street, she could have hot-wired a vehicle and escaped this city. She just needed a chance.

Her sharp hearing picked up the sound of door sliding open in the direction of the kitchen. But there was no one in that room at this moment, though one of the maids looked to be heading in that direction. Of course, that raised the question of who it could be: human or Decepticon? Was it a new threat, an ally for Dylan, or a possible rescue? Should she even hope for a rescue at this point? And then, she also recalled that if she could hear that noise, Laserbeak could hear it.

"Where is she?" a very familiar, very angry voice shouted from the other room.

Sam. He was here. Mikaela knew her perfect chance had arrived. She didn't know how in the world her boyfriend arrived, but she didn't care. Reaching into her purse, she ran towards his voice. The closest of Gould's goons tried to grab her, but she refused to be captured. She dodged their arms and made it through the doorway.

Her boyfriend held Dylan at gunpoint, demanding her location. When did Sam become John McClane? It was actually kind of impressive to see him like that. Unfortunately, he was standing near the television.

"Sam," she shouted in warning.

He caught sight of her, smiling due to the fact she was safe. But he didn't see the flat-screen shifting forms. As the bird-like being reformed, it grabbed the gun and wrenched it out of his grip. The Cybertronian turned his sharp-edged wings towards her boyfriend, intending to slit his throat.

Mikaela, however, hadn't been standing around during that time. She'd sprinted across the distance between them, elbowing Dylan in the stomach as she neared him. Ripping her stolen screwdriver out of her purse, she stabbed it into Laserbeak shoulder. Her strike was near the avian-like Cybertronian's wing, slipping between two pieces of armor. She knew from her time around the Autobots that, while their armor could protect them from most large blasts and large-scale attacks, smaller weapons could slip between the individual pieces to the more delicate circuitry below. She couldn't overpower him, but she could do damage if she aimed for a vulnerable spot.

Laserbeak let out a shriek of pain and smacked her aside. Knocked to the ground, she knew that she'd end up with a bruise on her shoulder later, but it didn't feel too bad. She struggled upright before the hurt, but not defeated, Cybertronian could attack her.

He didn't get the opportunity. As soon as the winged being attempted a second strike, a blue shape launched itself at him.

"Hands off her," snarled Wheelie, wrapping his servos around the larger Cybertronian's long neck and pulling Laserbeak's head away from the young woman.

Sam grabbed his girlfriend's hand and pulled her to her feet, "Come on. Time to go."

As he pulled her towards the sliding door of the kitchen, she couldn't help glancing back at the ex-Decepticon struggling against Laserbeak. Wheelie was smaller than the crazed condor, so he was being whipped around wildly as if he was riding a bucking bronco. Laserbeak was apparently furious, his red optic glaring as he reached back with his beak and ripped her screwdriver free. She thought she heard the avian-like being growl the word "traitor" before Wheelie was tossed free. Happily, it was in the direction she and Sam were running, so he shifted into his miniature vehicle form and raced after them.

Her boyfriend leapt off the ledge of the building, dragging her behind him. It probably said a lot about her trust in him and the kind of life she'd experienced over the last few years that she didn't even hesitate. The pair landed easily on the Decepticon ship waiting for them, likely her supposed "student driver" vehicle. Wheelie followed, shifting back into his biped form to grab on.

"Go, Bee, go," shouted Sam, scrambling towards the cockpit.

Mikaela tried to follow his lead, moving towards the relatively safe location, but she spotted a silver shape out of the corner of her eye. Laserbeak, one wing now drooping limply, was still after them. The bird-like Decepticon scrambled over the surface of the ship, grabbing her boyfriend's ankle and pulling the young man towards him.

She tried to go back to save him, but a localized sound of destruction from one of the engines erupted and then the entire ship suddenly shuddered. Gravity started to do what it did best, dragging them down. Self-preservation instincts and Wheelie's insistant pleading forced her to climb inside before she was dislodged from the plummeting vehicle. Inside, she found the transformed Camaro trying to keep their upcoming crash from being fatal.

Sam struggled against the avian-like entity, trying to prevent the Decepticon from killing him. He managed to move the freaky bird's head in front of the ship's weaponry and shouted for Bumblebee to fire. Happily, the guns removed Laserbeak's head from his body and ended the creep's murder attempts.

The young man gave her a grin as he scrambled away from the dead Cybertronian's body. If they all manage to survive this coming crash, Mikaela would be willing to call this rescue a victory. The young woman braced herself.

The impact was hard and disorienting, but she'd been in worse car accidents. She glanced around, making certain that both human and Cybertronian passengers survived relatively unharmed. Bumblebee seemed fine, giving her a quick thumbs-up, and Wheelie looked no worse off than when he jumped off the building. The little blue mech waved slightly at her and muttered something about his "Warrior Goddess still taking out all enemies easily." And Sam, her favorite survivor of alien attacks, was getting shakily to his feet.

"Better than any amusement park ride," he grinned lopsidedly.

She smiled faintly at him before realizing that the cavalry had arrived. The Autobots and uniformed humans were moving in on their crash site. One she recognized, Epps, crept towards the engine that had stopped working earlier. He excitedly began to declare that it was from NEST and trying to use it to relay a message back to the base.

When the little camera "nodded" at them, Epps, Sam, and Mikaela started swiftly outlining the situation to them. She added anything that she'd learned during her "stay" with Dylan. NEST needed to know what their plan was, that they were trying to transport Cybertron through the space bridge and enslave humanity.

The general plan seemed to be to head back towards the building with the pillars, use their one chance to destroy the control pillar, and hope that they could pull off this trick before they ended up with another planet hovering above the Earth's surface. She and Sam would be with Epps team while the Autobots divided to start dealing with the Decepticon forces scattered through the city.

As the last of the Cybertronians moved out of sight, Mikaela couldn't help wishing they could have an idea of whether or not the NEST base actually heard them. It was one thing to assume they did because of a camera's movement. It was another to actually hear them confirm that they understood the severity of the situation.

"I'd kill for a cell phone," she growled under her breath. "They took it from me."

"Wouldn't do you any good, 'Kaela," remarked Sam. "We haven't been able to get a signal in a while."

As the words left his mouth, a very distinct ringing came from him pocket.

* * *

Any sound or hint of movement and she would dive for cover under a car or a behind a broken piece of concrete. She would stay there, absolutely still and silent, until long after the noise was gone. Annabelle wouldn't lose this game of hide-and-seek. No bad robots would find her before she found Mikaela.

There were fewer people now. In fact, she hadn't seen anymore since that small group ran by her hiding place. It was a little creepy since there weren't any people in all these empty buildings. She didn't like how quiet it was; cities weren't supposed to be quiet. On the other hand, she could hear the large Cybertronians and their weird plane things flying overhead at a distance and have plenty of time to hide from them.

But the further into the city she walked, the harder it was to deny that she had no idea where she was going. What if she already passed the building with Mikaela in it? She didn't really know where she was supposed to be. She didn't know what the building she was supposed to be in looked like. Was it one that had mostly (broken) glass windows and steel or was it one with stone? She didn't know and she _needed_ to know.

Creeping inside one of the buildings through the broken door, avoiding the glass so she didn't get cut, she crawled under a desk. It felt safer tucked away like this instead of just hiding behind another crashed car. Once she was certain that she was completely out of sight, she pulled out her phone.

She didn't know where Mikaela was, but someone did.

"Sam," she stated into her phone, causing it to start calling his number.

It rang a few times before a rather confused voice answered, "Hello?"

"Hi, Sam," the girl quickly greeted. "Can you tell me where Mikaela is? What it looks like?"

"Annabelle? How… how in the world did you call me?" he asked, his voice completely confused and incredulous.

"With my phone, silly," she answered, rolling her eyes at his words.

"No, I mean… never mind," Sam replied. "She's in Chicago. So am I, in fact."

"I know she's in Chicago, but _where_? Is it a big metal building or a stone one? Does it have writing? What does it look like?"

"What? I don't… Look, its okay. We've got her back, Annabelle. She's with me right now," he assured. "Mikaela's fine."

So Sam already rescued her. That was good. He didn't need her help apparently. But she wasn't done yet. She still had to find Sentinel and Dylan. She came to rescue her babysitter and beat the mean traitors. Her mission wasn't done. And Daddy would never leave a job half-done. Neither would Ironhide…

"Where's that Dylan person who kidnapped her?" she asked.

"Probably still back at his penthouse. The place with the weird, glowing pillars near the top," he ranted. "Annabelle, I'm a little busy right now. Kind of in the middle of a warzone. Go ask Simmons if he has a picture of the place or something. Better yet, take the phone to him. We need an update of how things are going on his end."

"He's not here right now, but thank you anyway for the help. Bye, Sam," she called, hanging up.

A building with glowing near the top. Since all the lights were out, that would make it easier to spot. And he'd probably be the only person who wasn't scared or wearing a uniform. She'd find the bad guy. She'd find him because she _had_ to. And she'd find that Sentinel Prime too. She'd find the right building, find the bad guys, and make things right. Her new goal in mind, she slipped back out onto the street.

Everything would be all right. She knew it would be all right. Somehow, it would all be right. She kept repeating that one little thought in her head. She had to do this and everything would be all right in the end. Everything would be all right.

He promised her. And you can't break a promise. No matter what.

* * *

Dylan scrambled towards his goal. He'd sold out his species and worked alongside the Decepticons for too long; there wasn't anything else he could do except to warn the Cybertronians. He, and his father before him, had served the role of human liaise for too many years. He was in too deep to even consider changing sides, even if he could survive the attempt. As long as he stayed on the winner's side, he'd come out ahead.

Mikaela was gone. His little hostage had been snatched up by Sam and his Autobot friends. His Autobot friends who were supposed to be _dead_. Dylan knew that this could throw a monkey wrench in the whole plan.

He could keep silent, but that was the stupid option. The only way he could come out of this situation on top would be with a Decepticon victory. Which meant he had to warn them of the Autobots' survival. He'd already sold out his entire species. There was no reason why continuing to aid the winning side would make things worse for him. Besides, after the Decepticon forces take over the world and enslave humans, he'd be the most powerful human being on the planet.

He had to warn Sentinel and Megatron. He had no other choice and, honestly, he didn't need any other options.

* * *

Lennox stared at the men before him. The message from Sam and Epps, forwarded to him, promised nothing but trouble in Chicago. Anything that flew near the city was shot out of the sky. It was a suicide mission, but there was at least one small asset that they never expected to have again.

The Autobots were not only alive, but in Chicago already. He remembered the news of the Xanthium's destruction and the knowledge of what that loss would mean to the world in general and those closest to them specifically. Sam, Annabelle, and all the members of NEST knew them personally and Will knew it had to be hard on them when they thought the Autobots were gone. His daughter specifically would be happy to learn of their survival.

So they would have their Cybertronian allies waiting within the city. Unfortunately, getting into the city would be nearly impossible. The only way would be dangerous. And Will knew it would not get any better inside Chicago itself.

"If we want to hit back, we'll have to wing-suit in," he explained, addressing the group. He wouldn't order them to go with him, to attempt this crazy mission that would almost guarantee their demise. But he needed as many people as would come with him. If they understood the risks and were willing to come anyway, they would face the Decepticon forces once again. "I'm not promising a ride home. Anyone with me? The world needs you now."

After a moment, one of the men stepped forward and announced, "I can find my own ride home, sir."

One by one, the rest of the soldiers stepped forward to volunteer for the mission. None of them intended to remain behind. All of them would risk their lives, fly past the killer Decepticon ships, and attempt to save the world.


	15. Charging Forward

As soon as the child hung up abruptly, Sam realized that he probably should have told her that the Autobots, and Ironhide specifically, were alive. Annabelle's call just shocked him too much to think of it at the time. Somehow she managed to connect to his phone, that wouldn't connect to _anyone_ currently, and spontaneously started asking about the location where Mikaela had been held hostage. Okay, he could understand why she might be worrying about the older girl since 'Kaela baby-sat for her so often. And he sort of remembered her being present when he asked Simmons to locate his girlfriend.

Wait, if she wasn't with Simmons now, who was baby-sitting the kid? Sam desperately hoped that it wasn't Mearing or someone like that. Annabelle would drive "Ms. Paperwork" crazy. Maybe she was with her father or Dutch or something. He left Simmons in charge of her last and the young man hoped that whoever was watching the girl was up to the task.

Sam struggled not to laugh at the absurdity of the fact that, in the middle of a warzone that used to be Chicago, he was more concerned about who was watching a kid several states away than his current situation. He blamed Mrs. Lennox for that; the woman definitely could put fear into a person.

The group of humans moved forward, taking brief cover inside a large empty building. Wheeljack had apparently turned around, the scientist having remembered something abruptly and was waiting for them. The Autobot looked vaguely like Albert Einstein, but Bumblebee tended to use sound clips related to Dr. Emmett Brown from "Back to the Future" and Q from "James Bond" movies when discussing this particular mech. This lead the young man to assume that he was great at inventing, but was very quirky. And, so far, the Cybertronian was living up to that assumption.

From his explanation, that sounded _exactly_ something from a "James Bond" movie, he was providing them prototypes (which _really_ sounded safe, by the way) grappling glove things and explosives on a spike. Sam didn't know whether to be thankful not to be unarmed and helpless or to be worried about blowing himself up accidentally. Everyone else picked up the gadgets without question, including his girlfriend. Rather carefully, he also selected his spike and glove combo.

One shot. They had one shot to take out the control pillar. They needed to be closer. And higher. Much, much higher.

* * *

Lennox was giving out final orders. They were close, so close, but they were also in the danger zone. Any second now the Decepticons would take notice of their presence. Flying into the city in a wing-suit offered a smaller target, which was the only way they could possibly survive the trip. The pilots of their transport, however, knew coming in that there was very little chance of making it out alive. The Decepticons were too fast to escape. They knew that they were almost certainly going to die in the attempt to give Will and his forces a chance.

And, almost predictably, the closest Decepticon vehicles turned towards them. There were several Ospreys, but that swiftly changed as the Cybertronian turned one into a falling mass of metal. Then, another one was destroyed. There was no sign of anyone escaping the falling wreckage. Time was up. They had to go.

Lennox gave the order to bail out just as the closest human transport was hit. They leapt out, giving every impression of being giant flying squirrels. Behind him, the Osprey they'd just left was struck. Will tried to not think about the pilot, who'd he'd been speaking to only a few moments before, as he focused on gliding towards the city.

The next few minutes consisted of his team dodging the large Decepticon ships and what remained of the skyscrapers. Being small and maneuverable was proving to be helpful, especially when they aimed for a tiny gap in a broken building. It was similar to threading a needle. At high speed. Unfortunately for the mechs, the Decepticons were more like a thick steel cable than a thread in this scenario. At least one of the Cybertronian forces crashed horribly trying to follow them. Other smarter examples of their race changed direction instead. They did, however, lose track of the small humans in the process.

As they neared the ground, Will couldn't help feeling that getting into Chicago was the _easy_ part.

* * *

When they all began to divide, Chromia made certain to follow Ironhide. Though Ratchet had previously decreed the mech to not be battle-ready, the situation had forced them into a warzone. The medic had grudgingly accepted this and advised the weapon specialist to be cautious. The femme knew better than to expect the black armored mech to follow those instructions. Ironhide would almost certainly wade straight into battle, taking on any Decepticon foe that he could find without any regard for the fact that his hastily repaired previous damage offered a very tempting target. And she intended to keep an optic on him.

Arcee was following Sideswipe and Mirage. The speedsters intended to race ahead and hit the enemy forces hard and fast. She felt better working in a trio, even if it wasn't the same. The three sisters had worked together for so long, it was still hard to admit their loss. They _needed_ Flareup; they needed to be together. That empty gap in their processors, the connection to their lost sister, was unnerving and painful. They needed something familiar and important to latch on to, something to keep them focused on the current situation and not the absence of their third part. Arcee had chosen the familiarity of working in a group of three. Chromia had chosen to protect something important to her.

And he certainly needed to be watched. She quite vividly recalled his expression when the Xanthium was destroyed. It was hard to be silent when Annabelle started trying to contact several of the Autobots, her quavering voice coming over the femme's com-link. But it looked like it was breaking Ironhide's spark to hear the girl in so much emotional pain. He obviously wanted to speak, to reassure her, to stop the poor youngling's sobs. The mech managed to remain quiet, but it seemed to take all of his self-control to do it.

He was frustrated by the need for secrecy. He was frustrated by what harm such secrecy was causing Annabelle emotionally. And when he was frustrated, he tended to act a little rasher and a lot more trigger-happy. Now he had a whole city of Decepticons to take out his anger and frustration at causing the girl distress. Considering how he was in battle normally, an especially rash and violent Ironhide was not likely to pay the least bit of attention to Ratchet's instructions for caution. Personal safety tended to be put aside when he was this upset. So she would have to watch out for him.

A pair of Decepticons, startled by their arrival, turned towards them as the truck and motorcycle rolled into view. The dangerous mechs aimed their weapons towards them, but Ironhide was transforming already and had his cannons locked on them. His blue optics stayed focused on the larger one, his other form appeared to be a garbage truck from what Chromia could see, while the slightly smaller leapt forward. The mechs were completely focused on Ironhide and didn't even seem to notice the bike

The smaller Decepticon waved a flail overhead, lashing it towards the Autobot mech. Chromia zipped forward, shifting forms, and smacked him with her oversized weapon. Skating backwards, she moved back out of range before he could respond and opened fire on him. She loved to blast away at a target just as much as Ironhide at times, but he still had far more firepower. She did, no matter how much he may argue otherwise, have better aim. She hit the servo holding the flail, his opposite shoulder, and took out one of his optics swiftly and perfectly, reducing his ability to track her quick movements and to respond with his own attacks.

Ironhide wasn't being as strategic with his attacks. He fired at the larger Decepticon, blasting at him unrelentingly and simply throwing as much firepower as possible at the obstacle. And, no matter how thick the transformed garbage truck's armor might be, there is very little that can withstand a full-frontal strike of that mech's arsenal. Large chunks of metal were shot off by the unyielding barrage.

Satisfied that Ironhide had things under control with his opponent, Chromia focused more on hers. His movements less coordinated now and his vision impaired, the Decepticon tried to take aim at the speedy little femme. She didn't intend to make things easy on him. Racing across the rubble-covered street, she dodged his attempts to hit him with his flail. Taking aim, she took out his other optic and hit another joint. She shot at his joints, reducing his maneuverability to practically nothing. Finally, she narrowed the distance and finished the Decepticon with a last shot at point-blank range.

"Finished yet, Ironhide?" she asked. "Or are you getting slow?"

The black armored mech fired once more, removing his targets head from his body, before turning towards her. He gestured slightly at the now off-lined Decepticon, indicating that he was done.

"Show-off," Chromia teased, hoping that he was in a better mood now that he'd gotten a few cannon blasts fired now. If she could get him focused on the battlefield instead of the fact he couldn't speak to and help a miserable Annabelle earlier, maybe he would be less frustrated and less reckless when they ran into some _serious_ opposition. Either way, she'd keep an optic on him. "Still beat you."

"Barely," he answered, sounding mildly amused.

"Best two out of three?"

He gave a short nod. The shifted back into vehicle forms and proceeded.

* * *

Her eyes scanned the buildings above her. She sometimes saw the sun reflect off the windows, but no glowing. It was getting harder to move down the streets. There was more broken stuff, including the road itself. There was big scrapes, sections torn up that she had to climb over or go around. Sometimes a whole building was down, covering the street. She would have to go all the way around then or crawl through a broken window and hope there was a way through. And she was spending even more time hiding. At one point, she could hear the heavy footsteps of a bad robot right next to the tiny hole she'd crawled inside. Happily, he seemed too distracted to notice one little girl. But, no matter which way she went, she couldn't find the glowing thing that marked her target.

Annabelle brushed off some of the dirt on her once white shirt, but she left new smears of dust behind. She frowned slightly. She knew that she had to find the right building soon. What if that Dylan person walked away? She had to find him and that mean Sentinel Prime. She couldn't let them get away.

The child froze, her ears picking up the distant sound of voices. Usually she heard an engine or footsteps first, not talking. She scurried to another concrete-and-twisted-rebar hidey-hole, pressing herself tightly into the space as she waited for the next enemy to pass by.

* * *

"They left us? They left us? How's that for team spirit," grumbled Brains as the pair of small Cybertronians moved down the street.

"Look on the bright side: the Decepticon followed Bumblebee instead of us," Wheelie pointed out.

The Camaro carrying the pair of ex-Cons had encountered a rather skinny-looking Decepticon. The smaller Cybertronians had dove out of his window as the Autobot transformed to deal with the mech. A quick exchange of blasts proved the Decepticon, not one that Wheelie knew personally, to be swift and difficult to hit. The battle quickly turned into a chase scene, though it was hard to tell who was chasing who. The larger mechs, one a sports car and the other police motorcycle, had disappeared down the destroyed streets of the city. This left Wheelie and Brains alone in the middle of Chicago. And neither one actually had any real weapons.

"Great, so instead of the bike killing us, some other Decepticon will crush us under their servos. I'm rather looking forward to that," the transformed laptop remarked.

Wheelie gave a weak chuckle, "Just hope it doesn't turn out to be Soundwave that we run into. He won't make it a _quick_ off-lining."

The "wild-haired" Cybertronian shuddered slightly at the idea of what that particular mech would do to them. They scrambled over yet another large chunk of one of the skyscrapers. It was times like this when Wheelie regretted his size. While being smaller was useful when dealing with human-sized architecture, they couldn't move as easily as their larger brethren in this rubble.

"We're in the middle of a Decepticon-occupied city, alone," listed the transformed toy. "We have no means to defend ourselves if we run into trouble nor do we have any way to actually fight back. Our only hope to prevent Sentinel from turning humanity into his personal slaves is that our human buddies take out the control spire in time. Can things get any more complicated?"

He did not intend to receive any respond to that particular question. He certainly wasn't addressing it to some higher being like Primus. The Decepticon ranks were not particularly religious and Wheelie always knew better than to hope for any help from a greater power to protect him. Before he met Mikaela, he didn't expect any type of divine intervention and didn't receive it. And after he met the human, he felt he didn't need such a thing anyway. She was all the "greater power" that he needed to keep him safe. His Warrior Goddess was far more dependable in an emergency and he always knew where he stood with the young woman. Wheelie didn't know or care if Primus cared even the slightest about his existence or even if there was such an entity, but he could count on and trust his Warrior Goddess.

He didn't expect a response to his rhetorical question, but he received one anyway. And, as unexpected as it was to hear a voice react to his question, he immediately knew it was not from any kind of higher power. The speaker was obviously a real and physical being. One he recognized and sent the small ex-Con into a state of shock.

"W-wheelie?"

"Who's there?" asked Brains nervously. "I'm warning you. I'm a dangerous alien refugee. Don't mess with me. I watched a lot of Jackie Chan movies; I can take you on."

"Shut up," the transformed toy truck hissed at the other Cybertronian before turning his attention back to the hidden speaker. Now that he was looking for it, he could spot a small heat source among one of the piles of rubble. The relative size of the being and the fact that the stone surfaces were absorbing the summer heat made it easier to miss. Carefully, Wheelie called, "Come on out, kid. It's me. Well, me and Brains. Come on."

Eventually, a small blond head poked out of a tiny gap between two chunks of concrete. Her face was coated in dust and ash, but her blue eyes were perfectly clear and focused. Her gaze locked on the blue Cybertronian and she simply stared at him for several moments, tears slowly beginning to roll down her face.

"Who's the girl?" asked Brains, apparently not quite putting the pieces together yet.

Well, the transformed laptop had never met this particular human before, so Wheelie could understand his confusion. Still, he should have at least guessed. How many children knew the name of _any_ Cybertronian, let alone the ex-Con? Still, he didn't answer Brains question. He needed to deal with a rather upset girl.

Wheelie quickly moved over and crept into the child's hole. The little girl grabbed him in a tight hug, but he'd expected this reaction. She was shaking slightly, crying softly as she held him like a metal teddy bear. He patted the back of her head in a comforting gesture, similar to how he'd seen Mikaela do a few times when she baby-sat.

"Hey, it's okay, Annabelle," he muttered softly. "It's just me. What are you doing here, kiddo?"

"W-w-wheelie? I thought… It blew up," she sniffed, refusing to let go yet. "The space ship blew up. I saw it. And I called. No one answered. I called, but no one… But you're okay?"

"I know. We heard you calling, but we couldn't answer," he explained, wondering how in the world he ended up both having to be the one to deal with the girl and how she wound up in Chicago. "Someone tried to destroy us, so we had to trick them by pretending that it worked. That way they wouldn't keep trying. Sorry we worried you, but we didn't have much choice."

" _That's_ Annabelle? As in 'Annabelle Lennox,' the girl who was kidnapped earlier?" asked Brains incredulously. "What's she doing here?"

She finally loosened her grip and let Wheelie go. She rubbed her tear-streaked face, smearing the dust further across her cheeks.

"They kidnapped Mikaela. I snuck into Epps' car with him and Sam. They drove here to rescue her and stop the bad guys. I wanted to help, but they wouldn't have let me come if they knew," she described quietly. "But Sam already found Mikaela, so I'm looking for Mr. Dylan Gould and Sentinel now. Because they're bad. One took Mikaela and the other one hurt…"

She stopped, looking at Wheelie questioningly. It didn't take a genius to guess what she wanted to know.

"He's fine," he assured. "Ironhide is undoubtedly running around shooting Decepticons quite happily. And, judging from the fact that you decided to show up for this insanity," he waved his servo at their surroundings, "you're just as bad as him. Honestly, I bet you left everyone worried sick with this little stunt. What kid in her right mind decides to run onto the battlefield to hunt down a creep and an evil Prime? And how much you want to bet that _I'll_ be blamed for this? Warrior Goddess will fry my optics. Again. Your father will tear me to pieces. Ironhide will blast me into smithereens. And I don't want to even imagine what your mother will do to me."

"So what do we do with her?" asked Brains. "We can't just waltz down the street with her. There's kind of a battle going on here."

"Do you want to tell Mikaela, the kid's parents, or Ironhide that you just left her here alone? Especially Sarah Lennox?"

"How bad could she be?"

Wheelie shook his head while giving the transformed laptop and pitying expression, "You have no idea. Trust me; we have a better chance of survival if we take Mini-Ironhide with us. At least until we meet up with one of the Autobots or NEST members. Or we come up with a better plan."

* * *

With Mirage on his left side and Arcee on his right, Sideswipe skated down the street towards their next victim. Between his blades, the red mech's hooked whips, and the femme's aim, the trio of fast Autobots had already taken out several opponents in the city. She would fire at the optics, blinding and confusing the target. Mirage would snag the mech to yank him off-balanced and Sideswipe would rush in to slice him to pieces. It was an effective strategy and the off-lined Decepticons left behind was proof of their efficiency.

Their next target was bulkier than the others. If the silver Autobot had to guess, he would conclude that the mech would turn into a military vehicle. Something in his crimson gaze suggested that he wouldn't go down as easily. This Decepticon could be a real challenge, an opponent for Sideswipe to demonstrate his true skill with. And in front of a femme, no less. He couldn't ask for more.

"Let's dance, buster. I'll lead," he shouted at the Decepticon, digging one blade into the ground to catapult himself over his target.

Once he was overhead, his opponent's attention entirely on him, Arcee fired at the Decepticon's face. The bulky mech, surprisingly, barely flinched at the impact. Instead, he threw his large servo towards the location that Sideswipe would be landing. He didn't succeed in the attempt due to Mirage's hooked whips wrapping around the fist. Thus, the silvery Autobot landed unharmed and stabbed the Decepticon through the torso.

"How disappointing," Sideswipe sighed in disgust, watching the mech drop. "Another pathetic one. Where's a real opponent when you need one?"

"Perhaps I can be a more worthy foe?" suggested a rather confident voice as a black shape sliced across the silver mech's left side, leaving a shallow graze.

As soon as he was clear of whoever attacked him, Sideswipe gave his new enemy a quick glance over. He would guess this one was also a sports car of some type, perhaps a Porsche or another expensive choice. The Decepticon had also gone for the more speedy option of skating around on wheels. Finally, he had a thin blade, similar to the Earth weapon a "katana," attached to his left wrist and a competitive gleam in his optics, one identical to the gleam in Sideswipe's own.

"You're on. If you think you can take us," retorted the silver mech confidently.

"I think you'll need some more back-up," he replied. "Try to keep up."


	16. Collapsing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this was the point where I gained access to the DVD for this movie and could actually go back and check on facts rather than just hope my memory was right.

He was okay. He wasn't gone. Wheelie said so and the fact he was here proved that the Autobots escaped from the space ship before it exploded. He was okay.

Annabelle remembered Mommy saying that sometimes people could be so very happy that they would start crying, which the girl didn't understand at the time. People cry because they are sad, mad, hurt, or experiencing some other bad feeling. But, when she recognized the voice of Wheelie and saw him, she started crying because she couldn't believe that the small transformed toy was alive. It was too good to really be true. And then, he told her that all of the Autobots were okay. That _Ironhide_ was okay.

He promised before the space ship exploded that everything would be all right and _it was true_. Ironhide, her best friend in the whole world, was okay. That simple concept warmed her all over, sweeping the girl away from the destroyed city to a better place. Wheelie and the strange Cybertronian (with blue eyes and funny hair) led her deeper into the city, but her thoughts were far away and she barely noticed their progress.

Of _course_ Ironhide was okay. Nothing could beat him for long. Sentinel's attack had caused her faith in the weapon specialist's capability to survive anything to waver uneasily, but it didn't break. He might not be perfectly invincible, but he was close enough. He was a hero and heroes always win. And, since he didn't go away forever, he would get to go home with her again. Ironhide would be coming home when this was all over, just like he should be. He was right when he said everything would be okay. That simple concept, that everything would go back to normal since Ironhide wasn't gone forever, just kept spinning around in her head without allowing any other idea to appear, including her original reasons for coming to Chicago.

"Hey, Earth to Annabelle," muttered Wheelie, waving in front of her face and drawing her reluctantly out of her stunned thoughts about Ironhide's miraculous return. "Focus, kiddo. You _do_ remember we're in a fairly precarious situation, right? Crazed Decepticons running around the city, not a real weapon between the three of us, and little details like that? How did you make it this far with your head in the clouds?"

"Sorry," she responded quietly.

"I know you just had quite a shock, finding out we're not dead and everything, but now isn't the time to zone out like that," the blue ex-Decepticon remarked. "Can't risk a com-link right now since all the heavy-hitters are probably in the middle of fighting and I don't want to get blamed somehow for this mess anyway. So, all three of us have to stay alive long enough to locate someone who won't off-line me because I'm dragging a kid through a battlefield. Like Warrior Goddess. She'd grant me some mercy." Scrambling over another chunk of concrete, he stopped talking to concentrate on the task. Continuing once over the obstacle, he stated, "Until then, we have to be careful and pay attention. Between the three of us, surely we can stay safe. Right?"

"We're all going to die, aren't we?" mumbled the other Cybertronian.

"Shut up, Brains," glared Wheelie. "You're starting to sound like Sam."

The expression of the odd little robot at the comparison almost made the girl giggle. The two Cybertronians might be silly sometimes, though not as bad as the twins, but she trusted them to get her through the broken city. They would make sure that she ended up back with Ironhide. They would bring her to see her best friend. Everything would be all right. Without a word, she followed them as they headed deeper into the city.

* * *

Climbing up an unsteady building with no working elevators was not an easy task. Mikaela was thankful with every flight of stairs she took that she wasn't wearing heels or other impractical shoes this time. She barely made it through Egypt without falling flat on her face and her feet would have been killing her at this point if she was in heels.

The building they picked had a huge glass windows (good), a fairly clear view of their target (even better), and was tilting (not so good). But it was the best they could come up with. She did find it mildly amusing that someone called "Hardcore Eddie" sounded so… wimpy. Okay, they were in the middle of a destroyed city, standing in a dangerously unstable building, and blood-thirsty Decepticons were everywhere, but none of the rest of them was acting like they were terrified at the moment. Maybe he was acrophobic or something. But Sam was giving the older man a pep talk, reminding him of the whole "fate of the world is at stake" thing.

Unfortunately, a very unnerving sound caught their attention: an engine. The group of humans dove behind pillars and desks as the Decepticon vessel neared the windows. It drifted lazily around, as if it suspected that someone was inside, but didn't quite find it concerning enough to hurry.

The young woman couldn't help think that things couldn't possibly get much worse.

* * *

The Decepticon was fast. Very fast. Not that Sideswipe and the other two weren't quick, but the black mech was like lightning. He struck and disappeared across the street to take a stab at another Autobot. The Decepticon was fast, agile, and deadly.

"He's a freaking ninja," Sideswipe muttered, chasing after the black figure currently creating a long slash along Mirage's shoulder. "A Decepticon ninja."

"Do try to keep up," the black mech called. "If you don't at least try to make things interesting, I'll have to off-line you quicker."

"How's this for interesting?" asked Arcee, firing a swift succession of shots at his head.

Unfortunately, the Decepticons dodged the attack without even looking like he was making an effort. He narrowed the distance between him and the femme. In a matter of a few moments, the black-armored mech was right on top of the pink Autobot. Literally. The Decepticon had slammed her to the ground and had his thin sword close to decapitating her.

Mirage, however, had managed to finally get one of his hooked whips around the mech and yanked him across the street. The unexpected jerk caught the ninja-like Decepticon off-balanced and resulted in him slamming into the side of a building hard, shattering the glass windows and sending him into the darker interior. Sideswipe immediately followed.

* * *

She was wrong. It could get worse. Much worse. If sliding down the side of the glass building at high speeds, hoping that the glass they were shooting would break before that fell to their deaths, wasn't bad enough, then the continued destabilization of the skyscraper once they were back inside was definitely a problem. Mikaela clung to Sam's arm, trying not to start sliding again.

Epps, close to one of the destroyed windows on the down-hill side, snapped abruptly, "The evil thing's looking at me."

That did not sound good. And, as she tried to get a more stable position in this chaotic and diagonal office building, a deep rumbling sound somewhere outside and below them began to rise above the surrounding noises of destruction confirmed that things were becoming progressively worse.

"And it's even got an ugly Decepticon with it," he added.

A shudder went through the building. Something was happening. The skyscraper was about to come down.

"Move!" shouted Sam, trying to scramble towards relative safety. "We got to move."

Epps, snarling angrily about why their enemy always got the better stuff, warned, "We about to be eaten, people."

Then, some huge bladed figure burst through the ground a very short distance away from the dark-haired young woman. An involuntary scream burst from her mouth at the sight of this killer worm thing. It was a nightmare brought to life, which was quite an accomplishment compared to the horrors she'd already seen. And there was absolutely no way that they could handle this on their own.

The building was losing all hint of stability. It was going swiftly towards a more horizontal direction. Mikaela saw they might be able to escape this collapsing structure by climbing onto the next one. The building was about to land on top of the next one over and the floor they currently occupied would, hopefully, be close enough for them to climb across. It would take a small miracle and they would have to hope the jumbo worm didn't kill them first.

* * *

Flying through the air, Optimus headed straight towards the collapsing glass building. Shockwave's "pet" was destroying the structure by digging into the building to undo any type of stability. The last time he dealt with the large entity, he managed to do only a little damage to the thing. This time would be different.

"I'm coming for you," he called towards the bladed being.

As he passed through the first time, Optimus sliced several of the smaller tentacles from the giant creature. Then, soaring above the collapsing building, the mech dove down and through the structure. Plowing through the glass and concrete building, he continued until he was drilling through the long, bladed, metal entity.

The sound of twisting and tearing metal followed his emergence from the worm-shaped creature. Shockwave's "pet" was out of commission. Now he needed to focus on the Decepticon himself. Optimus turned back towards the street below, intent on the one-optic mech.

* * *

As a loyal Decepticon, he would follow any command that Megatron might give. He would face any foe, destroy any obstacle, and slaughter any target until he was off-lined if that was what was required. Currently, however, he wanted nothing more than to make these two Autobots stop talking.

"Dis one's mine," the green one announced. "Git yer own."

"No, I'm takin' dis one out. I 'ad him first," the orange one argued. "Anyway, I'm da better fighter."

The pair of Autobots were climbing all over him, pounding him with their fists and trying to beat off anything they could reach. It was bad enough that he couldn't dislodge the two Cybertronians, but he also had to listen to their inane conversation. The mech smashed at the Autobots, but they wouldn't get off of him or stop speaking.

"No way," the first mech argued. "I iz much better den you at dis. Bet I beat 'im faster den you."

The other one laughed, "I always beat you in a fight. You ain't dat tough. Or dat bright. 'Member dat time da little kid tricked ya?"

"She drew on you too, moron," the green one reminded, punctuating his comment with a punch to the Decepticon's face. "So dat don't prove nothing."

The orange Autobot grabbed their opponent's servo and twisted it backwards, commenting, "It prove dat she's smart and sneaky. Something you ain't. She just got lucky wit me."

"Dat weren't luck. Dat was evil skill."

"Either way, you ain't dat bright. And I still iz da best at fighting."

"Prove it," the green Autobot challenged.

Regardless of the fact that the pair acted and sounded as if they didn't even have a full processor between them, they were demonstrating to be very difficult to remove as they clung to the Decepticon and continued to pound away. He couldn't bring his main weapons, a pair of powerful blasters, into play due to the close range of his targets. It was beyond infuriating. Finally, he managed to get a servo on the orange mech and began to wench him away. Then, he felt a strong pressure and noticed a snapping sound as the green one grabbed his head.

"I win," the mech remarked, twisting the Decepticon's head off of his body.

* * *

Their progression through the destroyed city was temporarily paused as they caught sight of a mildly-damaged shape sitting in the torn-up street. The object was clearly not human in origin. Instead, it was one of the ships the Decepticons were using to fly around and fry anyone on the ground. For a small, blue, unarmed ex-Con, this particular vehicle offered quite a bit of potential.

Immediately, Wheelie and Brains dove straight into the vessel and began repair work. After all, he was a salvage drone and he knew how to salvage when needed. Thoughts of how he and his partner in crime could make use of this ship raced through his processors as he worked to make this thing able to fly again. It was absolutely perfect. That way, if a large and aggressive Decepticon showed up, they wouldn't be stuck on the ground with…

Wheelie paused, realizing that in his haste to take advantage of this stroke of good fortune he'd forgotten something rather important. Something that prevented the plan to go flying off across the city from being a good idea. Something, or rather _someone_ , that had been rather quiet since they spotted the ship and a little before that even. The small mech looked back, hoping to see her still nearby.

"Oh, slag," he moaned, staring at the empty street. "We're dead."

"What?" asked Brains, glancing at the transformed toy.

"She's gone," explained Wheelie. "Again."

The transformed laptop looked at the deserted terrain, confirming that the young girl had wandered off while they were distracted. She was gone. Which meant, whenever they found anyone else, they were doomed. Didn't matter if it was Ironhide, Mikaela, Will Lennox, or the kid's mother, he would almost certainly be reduced to a pile of scrap metal. They lost Annabelle in the middle of a _warzone_. That sort of thing is very rarely forgiven. Not even by his Warrior Goddess.

Wheelie kept glancing around, trying to figure out where she might have gone. Then, between two skyscrapers, he caught a distant glimpse of the building with the pillars. He could even see some of the glowing from here. And if the kid knew about Dylan Gould and Sentinel, she might know about…

"She wouldn't," he denied. "Even the Mini-Ironhide wouldn't do something that insane."

"What?" asked Brains, not quite as talented untangling of the girl's logic and trying to figure out what was occurring.

"She's heading towards the tower of doom over there to try and stop that Gould guy still," ranted the ex-Con. He was worried about her safety, but he was equally concerned about how he would manage to survive this event if the girl ended up with a single scratch. And he couldn't possibly catch up to her if she already had a head start. No one knew she was here and she was so small, fragile, and easily squished. "If she gets caught…" Wheelie shook his head, "Come on, Brains."

"What are we going to do?"

"We're going to fix this thing so we can chase after the kid," he explained. "It'll let us catch up to her, protect her better, and even take out a few enemies at the same time. So hurry up."

* * *

She should have stayed with Wheelie and Brains. She originally planned to. It would have been safer and easier if she just let them lead her to Ironhide. She wanted more than anything else to see that he was okay with her own eyes. But then the pair of small Cybertronians got distracted by the crashed vessel thing, trying to fix it up excitedly, and she finally saw it. A distant glimpse of glowing that drew her attention like nothing else had: the building she was looking for. Annabelle knew, deep in her heart, that the mean traitors were there and she could still find them.

A part of her wanted to just stay with her friends, to let someone else handle the problem. Ironhide was here somewhere, after all. Everything would be all right now. They didn't really _need_ her to be a hero anymore.

But another part of her, a stubborn part of her, pointed out that Daddy and Ironhide would never give up and would never stop until they won. Mikaela was safe, but the bad guys were still around. Until the traitors were gone, until someone punished Sentinel and Mr. Dylan Gould for what they had done, she wasn't finished. She couldn't just let someone else handle things. She already decided to do this and she had to keep going until it was fixed. She had to make sure that none of them ever hurt any of her friends again.

She quickly lost sight of the building as other skyscrapers got in the way again as she moved down the different streets, but she knew what it looked like now. She knew which way was the right one for sure now. Even the distant sounds of blasting and crashing would not distract her.

Mikaela was safe. The Autobots were perfectly okay. Ironhide was all right. And Annabelle intended to keep things that way.


	17. More Than Meets The Optic

She promised her husband not to go to Washington D.C. after he called her. She _didn't_ , however, promise to stay at home after she heard of the disaster that resulted from the planet's attempt to kick the Autobots off of Earth. Technically, she'd left as soon as she heard that her daughter would be at the launch site. The explosion only prompted her to hurry, as did the news of the Decepticons taking over Chicago. In the family minivan and armed with a map, she drove across the country. She was already half-way there by the time she learned of the destruction of the Autobot's ship, though the news forced her to pull over temporarily to regain control of her emotions. Now, drastically short of sleep, the woman was pulling up to the front gates of the Florida launch site.

Immediately, one of the guards began to approach her vehicle. She knew they would try to give her a problem and to tangle her in red tape. She did not plan to allow them to stop her.

The uniformed man knocked on the driver-side window. Undoubtedly, the first words out of his mouth would be to point out she didn't have clearance. If he tried it, the woman intended to make him eat her map and to toss him into the nearest swamp.

As she rolled down the window, the man began to pale beneath his summer tan. Abruptly, she recognized him from her last trip to the NEST base on Diego Garcia. Specifically, she cowed him into submission on the first day and made him act as baby-sitter when necessary. Apparently he remembered her.

"Mrs. Lennox," he greeted nervously. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for my daughter," she answered. "Is that a problem?"

He shook his head swiftly and frantically," No, not a problem. Wouldn't dream of stopping you. In fact, if you give me a few seconds to contact a replacement for my post, I'll escort you through the place myself. No one will stop you, Mrs. Lennox."

She nodded as the man hurried to call in back-up. There was something oddly satisfying about having soldiers still recall her she was and work so hard to help her. And, even better, she would be with her daughter again soon. The woman hadn't been able to hold Annabelle since that Decepticon stole her away. Nothing would prevent her from reaching her child now that she was so close.

* * *

Even as he opened fire on the flying Autobot leader, Shockwave was coldly considering the implications of the destruction of his Driller. The beast was a useful tool in battle, the size and strength giving the Decepticon a true advantage in most situations. While nowhere near useless on his own, the mech knew that dealing with Optimus in direct combat while his opponent also had the advantage of flight would be far too risky when there were other options. He was far too capable a fighter to face without an advantage of some type.

As soon as the Autobot began to return fire, Shockwave crashed through the closest building and ran through it to the next street. The humans' pathetic and crumbling city possessed at least one positive aspect the Decepticon could take advantage of: the labyrinthian-like structures could offer places to hide and confuse Optimus so that he could draw near and off-line him.

He was not a pitiful coward like Starscream nor was he an unquestioning, stoic follower like Soundwave. He was smart enough, however, to know when to turn the battlefield to his best interest. A short retreat into the shadows in order to better defeat his foe was all he required to seal Optimus' doom.

* * *

A trio of racecars streaked by her tiny hiding place between two chunks of concrete and an upside down taxi. At least, they looked sort of like racecars to Annabelle. But only if racecars had just as many guns as Ironhide might carry. She didn't know if they were good robots or bad; they went by too fast for her to find out. But she didn't recognize the vehicle forms, so it might have been good that she wasn't seen.

She was getting closer. Even with the increasing number of Cybertronians running around and the greater destruction of her surroundings to slow her down, she was making progress.

Shortly after they vanished out of sight, she heard the sounds of distant gunfire. Annabelle quickly decided to take a short detour around the locations with all the noise. Just as long as she kept track of where the building was, it should be okay. Nothing, not even racecars shooting stuff, would stop her.

* * *

"Come here, little freaky ninja," called Sideswipe, moving through the darkened interior of the building carefully. "Where are you? Come out so I can slice you into tiny pieces and _kill_ you."

"I think Ironhide has been rubbing off on you a little too much," muttered Arcee.

Most of the structure was still intact, but the furniture was scattered around the place at random. Even the tinted glass windows weren't allowing much light inside, so the column-filled ground floor offered far too many places for the Decepticon to hide. Perhaps Mirage tossing him in here wasn't the best idea.

"Well, you have to admit," the silver Autobot remarked, his optics darting from shadow to shadow. "There's no kill like overkill."

"I agree," responded the ninja-like mech, dashing out of hiding and slicing at the femme again.

Mirage, spotting the Decepticon barely in time, tossed his hooked whips around Arcee and yanked her out of the way. She ended up avoiding the blade thanks to that maneuver and opened fire on the Decepticon.

The mech easily dodged her assault, even in these more confining quarters. The black Cybertronian raced by her and caused a new slice on her side. Without missing a beat, he stabbed Mirage in his previously uninjured shoulder.

"Far, far too slow," the Decepticon commented. "I'm feeling rather bored."

Then, a long and pointy sword cut the ninja-like mech in half at the waist. Sideswipe looked down at the bifurcated Decepticon rather smugly.

"So am I," the Autobot stated before stabbing his head, off-lining the troublesome Cybertronian.

* * *

On the ground. The safe, sturdy, non-collapsing ground. He was back on the ground again. "Hardcore" Eddie couldn't be happier not to be in that skyscraper anymore. It was a death trap, even before the killer worm joined in. Of course, all of Chicago was just as dangerous. A major city turned into a devastating warzone overnight by the Decepticons? It shouldn't be surprising that he freaked out a little bit about walking into this place. So climbing into the damaged building did not improve things for the NEST member whatsoever.

But now that they were back on the ground, Eddie began to feel safer and slightly more optimistic. Even when the pair of young civilians pointed out that the glowing pillars were about to activate, he was still feeling rather more secure than before. A firm and steady surface under his feet could do that to a man.

Unfortunately, that momentary cheerful outlook was tossed aside as something began to open fire. Whether or not the unknown attacker was firing at them or someone else didn't matter. The group dove for cover, running into the closest building. Happily, their unseen attacker did not continue the pursuit.

Then, after their heart-rates to slow again, Epps asked, "Where's Sam and Mikaela?"

Eddie glanced around, noticing that the pair of young adults had been separated from them somehow. The civilians were not in the building; they were nowhere in sight. Which meant he was in trouble.

"Um…"

"I give you one thing to do," ranted Epps after it became completely apparent they'd truly lost them. " _One_ thing to do and you drop the ball on me?"

"I ain't signed up for all this," he snapped back. "Got aliens blasting at me, running around, chasing me. I'm ducking through churches and buildings…" He ranted on for several moments in increasingly colorful and hysterical language. This whole situation was spirally wildly out of control and he was beginning to freak out again. "I ain't signed up for this, Epps," he repeated before taking a calming breath. "I'm trying to keep it together."

After his frantic verbal explosion, Eddie was left feeling rather uncomfortable still. He didn't know what else to say to the Epps. Sam and Mikaela were alone in the city. Back where someone started shooting.

For a moment, Eddie wished he was back in the insanely unstable skyscraper.

* * *

Somehow, they ended up separated from their group of armed and dangerous NEST team members. He wasn't sure how exactly that happened, but Sam and Mikaela were on their own. Figures… Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

The two young adults huddled beside a bus, trying to mentally devise a strategy either to get back to Epps and the other or to head forward the building with the domed roof on their own. They were staying silent, however, until they devised an idea. No need to make noise to attract any psycho Cybertronians any sooner than necessary.

Then, a large shape slammed down near the pair. The triangular-figure, one servo resting on the bus, stared intently at them with glowing red optics. Or rather, he stared at Sam.

Starscream commented, "What a treat. You and me, alone."

The young man and his girlfriend were already running and scrambling away, trying to use the bus and everything else as shelter against the pursuing mech. The Decepticon easily sliced the vehicle in half, causing them to flee faster.

"Run, 'Kaela," the brown-haired youth called, splitting away from her.

As he hoped, the transformed jet was more focused on him than the young woman. If he was lucky, she might be able to get away. If he was _really_ lucky, she might find something she could hotwire and bring back to help. Like a tow-truck. Or a tank. If Mikaela could find and drive a tank, Sam would start worshipping her as "Warrior Goddess" too.

Still pursuing his prey, Starscream stated, "You can't hide, boy." He slid the remains of the bus away, remarking cheerfully, "I love it when your little insect feet try to run."

And those "little insect feet" weren't going to fail Sam now. Running was what he did best. He didn't have weapons or training to face these types of threats, but he did have experience at fleeing for his life while giant mechs tried to kill him.

"Thought you were working for us now, boy," the Decepticon remarked cruelly.

Okay, that was _it_. He wasn't going to get away with that statement. Just because that psycho watch made him into a spy did _not_ mean anyone could say something like that. He wasn't like that idiot Gould; he would never willing work for the Decepticons. If he had any weapon at all, he'd make that mech take back that suggestion.

…Wait, didn't Wheeljack give him some type of "mad scientist" things? And wasn't one of them explosive? The young man began frantically trying to dig out one of the devices. Not really remembering what that particular item was intended for, he slipped it on his hand and aimed it towards the large robotic head in front of him.

Only after he activated the thing did he recall that the explosive thing was the _spike_ , not the glove.

* * *

Out of all the possible scenarios he'd envisioned, Starscream had not imagined the human boy to fire a _grappling claw_ at his _optic_. It was an insane stunt and would have taken incredible aim or luck to succeed. Besides, while taking out a mech's optics might slow them down, blinding them would not necessary stop them. Audio receptors and thermal detection would have still allowed him to extinguish the insect's life quite easily. Visual input was only a single way for a Cybertronian to experience and navigate through situations, albeit a useful one. The boy's strategy should have been only a minor hindrance.

Unfortunately, the unusual attack did not just damage or destroy his optic. The grappling claw grabbed the sensor and pulled on it. The constant pressure on the more delicate wiring behind and attached to the optic was severely painful, far worse than simply shooting the thing.

The Decepticon began to jerk and flail around, trying to gain a grasp on the thin line or the human attached to it. He wanted this excess weight off of his optic _now_. His movements, however, were whipping the boy around wildly around him and his remaining optic was having trouble following his small target. Pain and mild panic was making it far harder to concentrate on reaching and removing the screaming human insect.

Starscream slammed into the surrounding buildings, scrapping against the surface in the hopes of dislodging the boy, the line, or the grappling claw itself. He could feel the pressure pulling at his inner wiring all the way to his central processor. It _hurt_. It wasn't like the pain of a quick and powerful blast that initially hurt intensely, but quickly shifted to a dull ache that could mostly be ignored. It was a sharp, constant, unrelenting pain of something trying to pull his more sensitive wires right out of his head. A human might not weigh much relatively, but it was far more pressure than should be applied to his optic.

The Decepticon tried everything he could to remove the boy. And, once he managed to catch that swinging figure on the end of the line and relieved the pressure that was causing so much pain, he would kill the human insect as mercilessly as he could manage.

* * *

Dangling by a thin, wire line, being tossed around by a frantic Decepticon so hard that he was surprised that his shoulder hadn't dislocated yet, Sam was probably at his all time greatest moment of pure panic. Any moment now, one of three things would happen: Starscream would actually hit him with all the flailing, he'd smack against a wall or the ground hard enough to kill him, or his arm would be completely ripped off his body. He would have ripped the glove thing completely off if he could, but it was stuck. If he survived this, he would definitely have a few choice words for Wheeljack.

Of course, right now he was just hoping _to_ survive. It didn't look good so far as he was whipped around. Sam was screaming at the top of his lungs in both fear and pain from his arm. At least he wasn't alone in that. Starscream was screeching equally loud, the words "my optic" being repeated as the Decepticon scrapped his face against another building. Perhaps shooting a grappling hook thing into the mech's eye wasn't the smartest thing Sam ever did, but it seemed to have been semi-effective.

On one of the swings, the young man was brought near the backpack he'd pulled the grappling glove from. With his free hand, Sam reached in and grabbed the spike thing before he was yanked away again.

"Sam," a new voice, a familiar male one, shouted abruptly.

Straining his neck trying to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals as he was whipped around wildly, the young man managed to spot Mikaela running back with a small group containing a familiar face. If he wasn't in such an unpleasant situation, he'd likely be rather grateful that his girlfriend brought the cavalry or wondering vaguely when Lennox showed up. Instead, he was just hoping someone would get him down _now_.

Another painful yank of his arm brought the brunette youth back upwards. The wire line dangling him from the mech's face bringing him towards the left shoulder of the robotic being. Sam drove the spiked explosive between two sections of armor, burying the device deep enough that it would be difficult for the Decepticon to grab hold of to remove. Another shout of pain and frustration came from the mech as he jerked again and tossed the young man sideways.

He didn't even realize he was being yanked downwards until he slammed into the ground. As soon as he was hitting the asphalt, Lennox dove for Sam and held on. The brunette young man screamed as quickly as possible for the soldier to cut him loose. And, over Starscream's shouts, he tried to warn him about a bomb.

The whipping around did not stop simply because Lennox grabbed him. Now both of the men could enjoy the fun of being tossed by the mech. The NEST soldier tried to get a blade to the line while the pair was treated like a couple of ragdolls, all the while inquiring about the bomb. It would explode any second now and Sam really didn't want to be too close.

Then, he felt a twang as Lennox's knife finally cut through the line. Unfortunately, they were being tossed higher just as the tension gave. For about the millionth time in the last few days, Sam was facing imminent death.

And, just as always, the one mech he could always depend on came to his aid. Bumblebee must have some kind of "Sam-in-trouble" radar since he race over, transformed, ran up the side of the building, and caught the two falling humans in midair.

As soon as the Autobot arrived, the spiked explosive detonated in the screaming Starscream's shoulder. The entire arm nearly severed from the bomb's force, barely dangling by a few thin wires. The Decepticon's shrieks increased in volume and he launched himself skywards as best as he could while half-blind and injured. Where the mech was going, Sam didn't know. But he was willing to bet that Starscream would not be back for a while.

"Well," commented the young man, trying to calm back down. " _He's_ gone."

* * *

The black truck and blue bike raced towards another set of Decepticons quite a distance down the street. These three were rather larger and bulky. If the mech had to guess, she would predict their vehicle forms would be for military vehicles. They would probably be trouble.

Good. Because Ironhide was looking for trouble. The black truck began to accelerate even more, increasing his speed as much as he could manage with the rough terrain. Just as he did with the troublesome Decepticons in Washington D.C., the weapon specialist rammed straight into them, transforming in mid-attack to land firmly in preparation to strike. His cannons were already aiming towards the mechs, ready to start blasting.

The center Decepticon, recovering first from the unexpected assault, met the Autobot's cannons with one of similar size of his own. His free servo snatched up a chunk of the broken pavement and hurled it towards Ironhide. Jerking aside of the piece of concrete, the weapon specialist began firing at the same time the thrower did.

Another one of the Decepticons, one of his servos larger than the other and more claw-like, joined his brethren by pouncing towards the firing Autobot. Ironhide shifted easily from laying cover fire towards the first one and dodging the slashing strike of the second.

The heat of battle was his element. No other mech could even come close to him when he was completely focused on fighting. A few Decepticon punks didn't even stand a chance of surviving him, let alone beating him. He may not be in the best condition, a little slower and a not completely recovered from what Sentinel did, but he could still take on any opponent.

One of his shots clipped the firing Decepticon in the shoulder and was quickly followed by a hit to the chest. The injured aggressive mech stumbled back, his red optics glaring at the weapon specialist. The clawed one tried to leap at the Autobot again. Ironhide grabbed the larger servo and twisted it around to stab its owner in the side. A quick kick to the Decepticon's side sent him stumbling away. The transformed truck fired another blast after the stabbed mech, knocking him to the ground. If any of the NEST soldiers had been present, they would refer to the ease Ironhide was dispatching them as "child's play."

Almost unwillingly, the concept of "child's play" brought forward a very specific child to his thoughts. It had taken every shred of self-control not to answer the sobbing little girl when she tried to contact the Autobots after the Xanthium was destroyed. Annabelle's voice still seemed to fill his audio sensors, begging him for any type of response. It was so hard to hear her so miserable and to know that her emotional pain was due to him and the others tricking her. Annabelle had been crying because of him. And he wanted nothing more than to make it right, to see her smile and hear her laugh again. But he couldn't fix things until the current situation was finished. Every single Decepticon in this city was standing between him and his youngling. And he would make them pay for that.

Firing at the two Decepticons angrily, Ironhide removed their heads from their bodies. It was very satisfying to watch them drop heavily to the ground. Another set of obstacles were out of his way.

Then, the third of the aggressive mechs, the one he'd nearly forgotten about while he was distracted by the other two and his own thoughts, slammed a rather large mace into the weapon specialist. Unfortunately, this Decepticon was both smarter and more observant than the now-decapitated pair. His forceful impact hit the Autobot in the chest, the same spot where Sentinel's blade had pierced previously and where Ratchet hadn't completely repaired the protective armor over the spot. The hit produced a snarl of pain from the weapon specialist as he stumbled back and clutched at the injury. Not letting the opportunity pass, the Decepticon swung his weapon again into Ironhide, forcing him down. The large mech brought the mace back up again.

Then, a fast blue figure smacked into the Decepticon's shoulder and pulled herself up. Chromia managed to yank herself onto the aggressive mech before firing straight into the side of his head. She continued to blast at the Decepticon's head, even after it became clear that her opponent was off-line and she'd reduced the head to little more than twisted metal.

"Are you trying to get killed?" the femme asked angrily, turning back towards Ironhide. "You are the _dumbest_ mech on this entire planet."

"I was fine," he remarked quietly, slowly climbing back up.

"Do you remember Ratchet saying to be careful? Do you remember the fact that you've already been nearly killed recently?" she continued, sounding absolutely furious with the weapon specialist. "Do you understand the concept of caution?" She waved a servo at him, her blue optics locked on the mech, "You need to stay focused because none of the Autobots want to be the one to tell Annabelle you got killed by a second-rate Decepticon. We've lost enough 'bots already because of what Sentinel did. Jolt is gone. My sister is gone." Her voice sounded so pained at admitting her loss. He could only imagine what it felt like for the femme when Flareup died. Quietly, she added, "And I don't want to lose you too. I _can't_ lose anyone else important to me."

Ironhide couldn't respond to words at first. He stared at her for a moment, trying to determine if Chromia was saying what he thought she was. As soon as she finished speaking, she looked horrified at the idea of what she was admitting to him.

Then, as he was about to speak, a bright light abruptly shot skywards.


	18. Prisoners and Trophies

The interior of the larger carrier Decepticon ship was dimly lit. The walkway that ran between the ports for the smaller vessels was partially illuminated as the doors opened briefly to allow the ships to enter. The lack of light really wasn't a problem for the Decepticons; the low levels of luminosity would not inhibit a Cybertronian's ability to navigate the vessel.

A mech walked across the walkway, watching the doors open and close systematically as more ships were brought back into the larger structure. It was a safety precaution. The aerial crafts would be consolidated and moved to a lower position. There was a chance, however slim, that the ships at higher altitudes could be theoretically damaged if something went wrong when the space bridge was activated. And, even with the presence of the Autobots and whatever human forces that dared to face the Decepticons, there was no reason to keep their vessels at a higher altitude and run such a risk.

As one of the portals opened, the smaller ship did not enter and gently dock into place. Instead, it practically tumbled in. The ill-flying vessel smashed into the walkway roughly and struck the Decepticon hard, knocking him away with extreme force. Unprepared for the unpredictable event, the mech suffered major damage all across his upper body upon impact, including his processor. His optics were knocked out, but his audio receptors were still function. At least, until damage forced him into stasis or worse.

Struggling to remain aware of his surroundings and on-line, the Decepticon managed to detect an unknown, highly-agitated voice.

"It sucked me it. There was nothing I could do."

A second voice, equally unknown to the injured mech, softly muttered, "Uh-oh."

The first speaker, sounding as unnerved as the other, groaned, "Oh…"

Before the Decepticon lost all input from his audio receptors, he managed to hear the second strange voice begin commenting, "This is a total…"

* * *

After his rather impressive and perfectly-timed rescue, Bumblebee had left Sam and Mikaela with Lennox and his men in order to rejoin the other Cybertronians. The soldier had to wonder how the Autobot always seemed to know when the young man was in trouble, but Lennox decided swiftly that it was either some type of protective instinct similar to how parents and older siblings had or the yellow mech simply knew that Sam was _always_ in trouble. Still, the young man always managed to scramble his way out of trouble eventually, with or without help.

A bigger mystery was how Mikaela ended up being lucky enough to find the group of NEST members in time. She'd simply run straight into the men, recognized him, and yelled that Sam needed help _now_. Of course, Lennox had never expected the young man to be crazy enough to end up in that situation: dangling from a line connected to Starscream. As soon as he was safe and on the ground again, Sam was instantly confronted by his girlfriend about _what_ in the _world_ he thought he was doing and was informed by an extremely worried Mikaela that if he ever did something like that again, he would be sleeping with the dog until he was eighty. Of course, the fact she was telling him this while hugging him tightly might have lessened the impact of her threat. Lennox didn't comment on the entire scene, knowing perfectly well that Sarah would have reacted in a similar fashion.

The group of NEST members, and the pair of young civilians, moved forward quickly, trying to keep together while watching out for their large enemies. They knew that Epps and his group should be nearby; Sam and Mikaela had mentioned they'd recently been separated from them. Uniting the two teams would be helpful, but it should not come at the cost of vigilance. Starscream might have left the area, but there was no telling when another Decepticon might appear. They were far behind enemy lines, after all.

From his limited knowledge of the area, Lennox half-way thought there should be a bridge nearby. It should be the easiest way across towards their goal. The only other way across would be to swim or finding a broken building across the gap.

As he caught sight of the bridge, Lennox realized it wasn't a permanent one. It was one of those contraptions that could be raised and lowered. A draw bridge. They were dealing with a draw bridge. And it was currently raised.

He also realized, with a quick look back, that Sam and Mikaela had vanished. They couldn't have become accidentally separated. They would have needed to consciously decide to depart, something that went against all common sense. Part of him wanted to get upset with them, but Lennox decided not to bother. The two of them had faced more life-threatening situations than the average person would believe. He also knew he could generally trust their judgment. After all, he'd trusted Sam enough to bring the Autobots to Egypt with very little explanation. If the pair felt it was needed to go somewhere other than the path the group was following, Lennox trusted that there must be a reason and he trusted them to do what they needed to.

Then, as he began contemplating ways to deal with the un-crossable bridge, Lennox spotted another familiar face among the wreckage of the destroyed city.

"Epps," he called, heading towards his friend. "Epps."

As he greeted the man, asking him what he was doing, Lennox couldn't help feeling a little more optimistic. With Epps to watch his back, they might be able to pull this off.

"Retirement's whack," the man answered, as if that was all the explanation necessary for someone to willingly wander into a Decepticon-possessed city. "And what's worse, we can't even get to the building and the Autobots are surrounded upstairs."

How he knew about their allies' current situation, Lennox could only guess. Perhaps the group did some recon from a higher location while looking for Sam and Mikaela. But it didn't really matter how he knew. All that mattered was that they needed to get across _now_.

Two more important factors swiftly added to the complexity of the situation: one a positive and one a negative. The arrival of more forces, climbing out of the water, was rather reassuring, but the pulse of bright light that launched skywards made the man begin to wonder if it was already too late.

* * *

As soon as the space bridge activated, alarms began to sound throughout the room from several of the computer systems. A few of their satellites were sending them images of the weird distortion in space where, amazingly, a huge shape was materializing. Or, rather, coming through the space bridge. It seemed impossible, but that criminal girl was apparently right when she said that they were bringing Cybertron here. An entire planet was about to pop up right next door.

Of course, adding that much mass so close to Earth was bound to cause problems. Earthquakes were beginning near most major fault lines, though they were thankfully weak for the moment. But the seismic activity was increasing slowly as more of the huge planet appeared through the bridge. Simmons knew that it would only get worse; growing to the point where the earthquakes spread worldwide and Earth might even tear itself apart.

The man's eyes, however, was locked on a specific screen. Deep within the chaotic city of what was once Chicago, there was a bridge. Specifically, it was a draw bridge that was up and the NEST soldiers were standing on one side of it. Dutch was hacking into the system to fix that, even commenting how hard this task would be for the average person, but not him. His assistant was probably one of his best investments.

Simmons took a moment to glance at Charlotte, half-way hoping she was impressed. She refused to look at the former Sector Seven agent, merely congratulating Dutch. That woman loved playing hard to get. Well, he could play too.

Then, a small movement on another screen caught his eye. For a moment, it looked like…

"Dutch, rewind that about thirty seconds," he ordered quickly, pointing at the screen.

Without even a question, the talented individual followed his instructions. The camera appeared to be one from an ATM machine, though the slight tilt of the image indicated that it was only a miracle that it was still operation and surviving since it had been apparently hit by something during Chicago's occupation. When footage was rewound was, a small figure moved across one corner of the screen and Simmons was doing his very best to deny what he was seeing.

Covered in dirt, blond hair tangled and wild, and scrambling over chunks of concrete, Simmons was looking at Annabelle Lennox. The girl was in Chicago. How in the world did she get there? Why was she in the middle of _that_?

"Is that…?" began Dutch.

"Yes," Simmons interrupted, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

How could things get worse?

The door opened abruptly. The two new arrivals caught the attention of the entire room's population. One in particular stood out. She wasn't wearing a uniform of any kind, but she moved with strong purpose. A couple of people who recognized the woman flinched. Charlotte glared, likely wondering who would be interrupting them and whether or not she had clearance. Simmons simply hoped that she wouldn't attack a guy in a wheelchair whenever she found out what was going on.

Sarah Lennox had arrived.

* * *

The two small Cybertronians moved through the large vessel, neither one of them certain what they should do. The Plan A of using the crashed ship against the Decepticons and/or to relocate Annabelle would have to be considered a complete failure. And now they were stuck on the larger version of the vehicle and there were undoubtedly plenty of aggressive mechs somewhere close by. Big, aggressive mechs who would absolutely love to blast them to pieces and neither Wheelie nor Brains would stand even a slight chance of surviving such an attack. If they ever figured out a Plan B, it would have to be fairly impressive in order to be at all effective.

Turning a corner, the pair came upon a rather intriguing sight. The blue ex-Con knew exactly what he was looking at and this particular technological center offered a rather unique possibility.

"We're in the heart of their ship," Wheelie remarked, glancing at his surroundings. It was time for Plan B. "Let's give them a little ride."

Brains chuckled, understanding exactly what the small mech had in mind, and commented, "Oh, we're gonna screw this ship up."

As he ripped apart wires, Wheelie knew that this would certainly cause problems for everyone inside the large vessel, along with all the smaller ships inside it. He also knew, but refused to acknowledge for the moment, that it would be equally dangerous for the pair of saboteurs.

* * *

He didn't know why he felt that he and Mikaela should move away from yet another well-armed group of soldiers. Common sense dictated that they remain with Lennox and his men. Of course, Sam and common sense hadn't been on speaking terms with each other for quite some time. He probably misplaced his common sense around the time giant alien robots became a normal concept for him. Or possibly before that, back when he first fell for a girl way out of his league. Regardless, common sense didn't really factor into this. His only explanation for this decision would have to be a gut feeling. And Mikaela seemed to be sharing that feeling (though she would likely call it a woman's intuition) and was following him.

Crossing the watery barrier was surprisingly easy. Very shortly after the two young adults separated from the soldiers, they turned down a street and found the remnants of a building lying across the divide like an improvised bride. It might not have been the safest-looking way to cross, but it was far more stable than the last structure they'd dealt with.

It wasn't until they nearly reached their goal that Sam realized why his gut feelings were so insistent that he hurry. Diving to the ground and crawling to the relative-safe cover of an overturned car, the young man took a quick assessment of the situation at hand.

Several of the Autobots were being held prisoner at gunpoint by a large number of Decepticons. The dark-haired young man didn't know how this occurred so quickly, but his best guess would be an ambush against his friends with overwhelming forces. From his position, he could spot Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Bumblebee. He was just saved by his guardian a short while ago, and now the transformed car was the one in trouble. Surprisingly, he actually recognized one of the Decepticons present as well. Unless he was mistaken, one of the mechs holding Bee and the others prisoner was Barricade.

Mikaela crawled right next to her boyfriend, peering at the sight before them with grim determination. This was the look she wore right before she crashed a vehicle right into Alice. It was an expression that clearly announced to the world that someone was about to be seriously hurt. Even covered in dirt and ash, she was the most beautiful and dangerous person Sam knew. Between the two of them, they would find a way to help. They _had_ to.

* * *

Soundwave observed the captured Cybertronians coldly. The only reason the three Autobots were still alive was due to a series of orders, even though the mech was only loyal to one of those who gave said commands. Lord Megatron, in order to maintain the illusion of a "partnership" with him, had instructed that his forces must follow Sentinel Prime's commands as well as his own during this attack. At least, they must obey until Cybertron's arrival through the space bridge was complete. After that point, it no longer mattered what the red mech thought. He would no longer be needed. Until then, Soundwave would obey his commands.

And one of Sentinel Prime's orders was to attempt to capture the Autobots if possible rather than off-line them. A rather troublesome instruction that most of the Decepticons preferred to ignore, but one Soundwave was currently enforcing. The old mech seemed to feel that, once their home world was restored, the Autobot forces would see that his actions were for the best. Sentinel seemed to believe that, once it was over, they would accept him as leader once more and no longer care about how his past behavior went against their frivolous moral code. An unlikely outcome, but Soundwave obeyed. He felt no loyalty towards Sentinel, but he would obey because Lord Megatron wished him to.

Joining the collection of Decepticons with far more confidence than any other member of his organic species would possess, Dylan Gould glanced at the captured Autobots with a look of disdain. This particular specimen, and his male batch initiator before him, was a useful discovery for the mech. Most humans were unremarkable and easily replaced or disposed of as needed. This family was… uniquely qualified for their role. Already in a position to be of assistance in preventing a premature investigation of the Ark, Soundwave found the Goulds to be ruthless, clever, merciless, conniving, and unconcerned with the well-being of other members of their insect species. There had been instances where the mech had scanned them to ensure they were not actually Pretenders. Even if Richard and Dylan Gould may have claim at times they had no true choice in the matter and that allying with the Decepticons was merely good business, the mech had observed them long enough to know that neither had any true qualms about what they were doing. Even upon his demise, Richard Gould did not seem to regret the arrangement. And his offspring, raised with the knowledge of his role within the ranks, was an even more perfect and loyal tool for manipulating humanity to their needs. Dylan Gould would have made an impressive Decepticon.

The male organic, his tone deeply disgusted, asked, "Prisoners? You're keeping prisoners?"

"Yes…" Soundwave hissed, wondering why he would be asking about something that he could see quite clearly.

"You need to teach them about respect," he declared. The human's tone was verging on ordering the mech, but he was willing to give him a little lenience. Regardless of how it might seem at this moment, this organic knew his place and had been nothing but loyal to their cause. He was _almost_ as good as a Cybertronian. "This was all business, but now it's all personal. Do you understand me?"

Yes, Dylan Gould would have made a fine Decepticon. He had the right mentality, the right ruthlessness for such an existence. If he could devise a method to download information from the human's limited organic brain into a more efficient processor, Dylan would make a useful replacement for Laserbeak. The loss of the avian-like being was rather unfortunate and Soundwave's collection of small drones was rather diminished. It was certainly an idea to consider researching after today's victory.

Of course, his idea of disposing of the captive Autobots offered an intriguing possibility. Lord Megatron would approve of the tactic, though Sentinel had ordered them otherwise. But Cybertron was in the process of materializing in this solar system and Sentinel would cease to matter shortly. If the red mech complained before that point, Soundwave would claim he received new orders. No reason to state that said command came from the organic.

Chuckling at the human's suggestion, Soundwave agreed, "I understand. No prisoners. Only trophies."

* * *

She glared at the sight of Dylan standing there. Mikaela wanted her screwdriver back so she could stab it into his face. That stupid traitor… He was just walking around the Decepticons with his own evil ideas that he felt the need to suggest to the Cybertronians. Like taking out the Autobots they were holding prisoner.

Wheeljack nervously commented, "Bee, I think they're going to kill us."

Sam did not seem to willing to let that happen. The young man was scrambling with his grapple glove again, even though the last time he did so lead to him being attached to Starscream's face. Considering that Lennox had to cut the line, she doubted it would even work anymore. Mikaela grabbed his arm, shook her head swiftly, and pulled out her own grapple glove, the one that she'd picked up when the scientist mech had passed them out to the members of NEST. The young man nodded in understanding. She had a plan.

The mech who Dylan spoke to began reaching towards Wheeljack, but Barricade gained a rather cruel gleam in his gaze and gestured towards the bright yellow Autobot instead. After a second of apparent consideration, he nodded to the transformed police car.

Barricade grabbed Bumblebee roughly and snarled, "You first."

The dark-haired woman felt Sam stiffen beside her. He wasn't going to let this happen. If they couldn't find a smart way to do something to stop them, she knew he could very possibly do something insane and stupid instead. She needed to hurry.

Rather than slipping her hand into the device, she was trying to wedge her spike bomb inside. It was a tight squeeze, but she knew it would work. She actually understood the mechanics of the grapple glove, unlike her boyfriend. And she could figure out how to jury-rig it to activate without her hand inside.

"Wait, we surrendered," Wheeljack protested as Bee was dragged forward. The scientist mech wasn't generally one to be involved in direct combat, but circumstances had forced all of the Autobots to Chicago. And he was about to witness the full heartlessness of the Decepticons first-hand. He reminded, "We're your prisoners. Can't we talk this out?"

Barricade leaned forward and growled something softly to Bee before announcing in a louder tone, "Be careful of this one, Soundwave. He's a rather troublesome pest."

The transformed police vehicle shoved the yellow mech towards Soundwave's waiting grasp. Even from her position under a destroyed car, Mikaela could tell his grip on Bumblebee was far tighter than needed.

Sam was frantic beside her, softly begging her to hurry. She knew that he wasn't meaning to be this much of a distraction, but she needed to concentrate. The spike bomb was in place, but aiming the grapple glove wasn't easy. She had one chance at this and she didn't even know for certain if it would work. But she couldn't fail. Bumblebee wasn't just Sam's best friend; he was her friend too. They couldn't simply watch as he was killed.

The Decepticon maneuvered the yellow mech into a position where all of the Cybertronians present could have a clear view of the execution. He practically threw Bumblebee to the ground. Staring down at the Autobot coldly, Soundwave took careful aim at Bee's head. Mikaela took careful aim at the Decepticon. While he had the Autobot at point blank range and couldn't possibly miss, she was desperately hoping that her unusual weapon would strike her target. Neither portions of the gadget were designed with this purpose in mind, so she had very little idea of how accurate it might be.

"Please work," she whispered quietly under her breath, crouched awkwardly in her hiding spot. "Please."

Two things occurred at the exact same instant. First, she fired her grapple glove towards the clearest portion of Soundwave she could aim towards. The claw shot forward, the line racing along and out of her sightline. Her other hand activated the spike bomb, just in time for the line to snatch the glove (and the bomb within) out of her grasp. Unfortunately, she managed to see that she'd missed her target and her makeshift weapon was flying somewhere beyond Soundwave.

In the same moment that her only way to stop the mech had failed, the Decepticon had turned his attention away from Bumblebee. For a split second, Mikaela couldn't see what was going on. Then, she saw it. Ships, dozens of them, were raining out of the sky. The deadly vessels that had filled the air and blasted anything that they encountered were now crashing to the ground in droves. The young woman could see that the Decepticons were as stunned as she was by the unbelievable event.

Bumblebee, however, wasn't wasting the opportunity. The yellow mech smashed his fist into Soundwave's face. Without missing a beat, the Autobot regained his footing, transformed his other hand, and jammed his arm cannon into the Decepticon's chest. Unfortunately, Soundwave managed to grab and divert the yellow Cybertronian's aim slightly before he fired. Instead, the blast took out a chunk from his side. The Decepticon clutched the injury with one hand and brought up his weapon with the other. Bumblebee moved away from the mech, firing the entire time.

The other Autobots were also taking advantage of the distraction to escape from their Decepticon captors and retaliate. Then, a trio of fast moving racecars practically flew into view, guns blazing. The Wreckers had finally arrived on the scene.

* * *

Alarms were sounding and gravity was certainly beginning to take effect. The Decepticon vessel was going down, along with all the Cybertronians on board and the smaller ships that had been docking. He didn't know how much damage this would do overall, but it was certainly far more than anyone would have expected him and Brains to pull off.

But there wouldn't be any escape for them. They would never be able to get out of the crashing ship in time, even if the smaller vessel they hotwired still worked. The pair of small Cybertronians was doomed and they knew it.

Impact was undoubtedly seconds away, so there wasn't really any time for regrets or anything like that. Not that Wheelie had too many.

He regretted staying on the Decepticon side as long as he had and he certainly regretted working for the freaking morons _period_ , but he wouldn't have met Warrior Goddess otherwise. And he definitely didn't regret his life since he met her… and the Autobots… and even Sam. Being one of the good guys was better than his old life among the Decepticons. He even had a friend his own size to hang around with. Of course, now they both would be dead.

"We had a nice run, Brains," Wheelie commented. "You and me."

"Yeah, we're gonna die," the mech responded.

Neither one had the chance to say anything else. The violent impact of the ship crashing tossed the pair around wildly. Sections of the metal structure collapsed or bent, destroying the chamber they were inside. Wheelie felt him slam sharply against the side of the room. Then, another hard impact hit him as darkness engulfed him.


	19. Staying Alive

Aim for the optics and vulnerable sections between the pieces of armor. Spread out and attack from different angles so the enemy can't focus on a specific target. Take advantage of your small size to avoid retaliation.

These basic concepts kept sounding in Lennox's head as he gave instructions to the human forces. Experience had taught him the importance of these simple ideas. Decepticons were large, powerful, and dangerous for a single human to deal with, but they weren't close to invincible. In larger numbers and with the right tools and knowledge, the malevolent Cybertronians could be brought down by human forces.

This particular assault would be taking advantage of the vertical aspects of Chicago. Combining with elevated snipers to provide cover, several soldiers would be parachuting down to take on the Decepticons on the ground. They had practiced this type of maneuver with their Autobot allies in the past, so they should be able to pull it off.

The sounds of battle and a series of crashes abruptly from somewhere close. Lennox gave the signal to move.

* * *

As he slowly regained his awareness of his surroundings, he noticed two important facts. Two important facts that he didn't even need to be able to see to recognize. One, the crumpled remains of the ship he was occupying was half-filled with water. Two, he was stuck.

Well, "stuck" might be a little too vague to accurately describe his situation. The small Cybertronian was trapped between two large sections of metal that had crumpled during the crash, partially crushing him and pinning him in place. He couldn't even turn his head. Of course, he should feel lucky to even be on-line. If the impact had smashed the now-scrap metal just a little closer together, there wouldn't be enough left of him to have even woke up.

Trying to activate his optics and get a better idea of his situation, Wheelie realized that he was half-blind. Being crushed against the remnants of the ship had resulted in one of his optics being smashed. Specifically, it was the one that Warrior Goddess _hadn't_ fried when they first met. Typical.

From what he _could_ see, there seemed to be a lot of twisted pieces of metal now occupying the chamber. Water filled the space about half-way, occasionally splashing up to where he was trapped. The ship was also slightly tilted, with him at the lower end. More promising was the few beams of sunlight that were reaching the ex-Con, reflecting off of water surface and promising the possibility of escape.

"Brains," he called out, trying to wrestle a servo free. "We survived. We crashed the thing... and lived to tell the tale. Let's get out of here... before someone shows up to fix that."

He managed to move a little bit out of his pinned position, several jolts of pain informing him that his optic wasn't the only injury. He knew that either Ratchet or preferably his Warrior Goddess would have to do some repair work whenever the current crisis was over. Wheelie finally yanked an arm out and started trying to drag himself free. It didn't take him long to realize that he could only move one of his servos, the other one crushed into uselessness.

"Brains? You awake, buddy?" the small blue Cybertronian called again, trying to get the attention of the only other mech close to his size. "Brains?"

The only sound he could hear was the creak of metal, the water lapping, and his herculean effort to pull himself free. Wheelie turned his head, trying to judge where his friend might have ended up landing after the crash. The "wild-haired" Cybertronian could be anywhere in this mess. For all he knew, Brains could be underwater or stuck under a particularly heavy piece of metal. That could be why he wasn't answering.

He scanned for any nearby signs of Cybertronian life. On the bright side, he couldn't detect any of the Decepticons who had been on board. Apparently they had either already escaped the wreckage or didn't survive the crash. Unfortunately, he couldn't detect _any_ other Cybertronians. Other than himself, there was no one alive inside the crumpled remains of the ship.

And just as he realized that fact, he spotted what was left of his friend. While Wheelie had only be partially crushed and trapped, Brains had been practically flattened and partially torn in half. He never had a chance.

"Sorry," he muttered softly. "Guess you were half right about us dying."

He turned his head up, trying to spot the hole where sunlight was filtering in. Just because his friend didn't survive didn't mean he intended to stay in this wreckage. He refused to remain here until someone found him and likely finished the job that the crash started, crushing him out of existence. He could feel bad about his friend/roommate being off-lined later, after he escaped. He needed to remember the old Decepticon mindset: focus on his own wellbeing only. All that mattered at this moment was getting out alive. Everything else would wait.

Once again, he began the difficult and painful task of dragging himself free.

* * *

The situation had swiftly changed. Their previous captives were once more on the attack while the air support was now crashing to the ground. The yellow-armored scout managed to hit him with a cannon blast before he could increase his distance from the Autobot. In order to regain control, he would need to bring in assistance.

"Starscream, acknowledge," Soundwave commanded, contacting the Seeker with the com-link. "Air support requested."

"No slagging way," screeched the Second-in-Command over the connection. "I'm not going anywhere, you fragging idiot. That _boy_ destroyed my optic and nearly blasted my entire arm off. Do you know how slagging hard it is to fly half-blind while a limb is barely dangling on? Get your own air support. Besides, we already won by now. Sentinel's bringing Cybertron through the space bridge, the Autobots are out-numbered, and we can't fail. So I'm not risking my neck when I don't need to."

Before the mech could berate the coward, Soundwave was forced to dodge another of the Autobot's attacks. The scout did not know when to quit. Clutching where Bumblebee managed a lucky hit previously, he fired in retaliation against his enemy. He intended for this mech to be executed and he _would_ see this through.

As he moved across the broken pavement, he managed to kick up something connected to a long, thin line. Soundwave barely had to notice this small object before it detonated, doing some minor damage to his leg and causing the Decepticon to stumble to the ground. The fall did not help the serious injury to his side at all.

Somewhere across the battlefield, not far from him, he thought he heard a familiar female voice shout triumphantly, "It _did_ work."

Soundwave struggled back upright, beginning to wonder if Starscream could possibly have the right idea. They were too close to success for the Autobots to be able to change anything. Lord Megatron was in no danger; Soundwave wouldn't be able to even contemplate leaving if he was or if he ordered the mech to remain. And, like the Seeker, he was injured. If he was off-lined by the persistent Autobot scout, he would not be able to assist his leader in the future. It would be in everyone's best interest to follow Starscream's example and withdraw to a safer location for now.

Firing a final shot towards Bumblebee, causing the yellow mech to dive out of the way, the Decepticon shifted into his vehicle form. While looking rather more demolished than the shiny Mercedes-Benz that he earlier posed as, he could still drive. He avoided the trio of aggressive racecar-shaped Autobots who were taking apart several other mechs and the swarm of human soldiers that were now scurrying into view. He might not be the cowardly traitor that Starscream was, but he could appreciate the idea of a tactical withdraw.

* * *

Proceeding with their prolonged battle, one that humans would refer to as being "a game of cat and mouse," Shockwave nursed his latest injury as he moved between the partially-destroyed buildings in search of this quarry. Both he and Optimus had landed some rather impressive shots on each other already. The only reason one of them wasn't off-lined at this point was simply because of how effective the labyrinth-like ruins were proving to be. They couldn't keep this up forever. Eventually, either he or the Autobot leader would make a fatal mistake.

The Decepticon edged closer. He suspected that his enemy would be around the corner, but he couldn't be certain at the moment. They were drawing near an on-going battle with a large number of Cybertronians involved. He could be close to another Autobot, a less dangerous one. Regardless, Shockwave intended to finish the mech off.

Leaping out of cover, he opened fire. Instead of Optimus, he saw a pair of Autobots who seemed to be smacking each other. As soon as they spotted the attacking mech, the green and orange Cybertronians dove apart and avoided injury.

"Where'd 'e come from?" asked the green one.

"Ain't got a clue," the second one answered. "Let's rip 'is freakin' eye out."

For a split second, Shockwave froze as he tried to decipher their odd speech pattern. Then he saw his original opponent arrive, his sword drawn. Apparently the Autobot leader was close after all, behind yet another crumbling building. Unable to react swiftly enough, the Decepticon saw Optimus cross the short distance between them and buried the blade through his head. That was the last thing Shockwave would ever witness as his optic and processor were split in half.

* * *

He'd survived Mission City. He'd survived Egypt. He'd survived heartbreak, being fired from Sector Seven, and living under the same roof as his mother. Simmons knew he could survive almost anything he might face. But now, the man knew that his time had come.

Charlotte Mearing, not knowing the danger, had charged straight into the situation. Her demands for proper authorization, the woman's main defensive strategy in order to maintain order in the middle of chaos, were already being spoken as the intruder's guide cringed. She began explaining that they were in the middle of a crisis and didn't need to deal with any other messes currently. She certainly didn't seem to understand that there was a reason why a soldier would be so meekly leading the individual inside. The Director of National Intelligence looked so firm, so direct, so gorgeous…

Then, her voice began to trail off. Just like so many before, she seemed to be sensing that she was dealing with a far more hazardous opponent than it would at first appear. There was just something in the mother's gaze that those with any type of survival instincts recognized as a danger. Even obviously low on sleep and at the end of her patience, she could appear intimidating. Actually, that might actually be making her look even _more_ intimidating.

"I understand that there are rules and regulations, ma'am," Sarah Lennox began. "That's your job."

"Don't call me a 'ma'am.' I'm not…" Charlotte tried to interject, but the parent refused to be stopped.

"But I have my own job. And no one will stop me from doing it." She turned her gaze towards the room, her eyes clearly searching for a certain individual. She paused briefly on Simmons, recognizing the wheelchair-bound man who was trying his best to avoid catching her attention in any way. "I'll make this simple. I'm here for my daughter, Annabelle. I know she was brought here and I've come to take her home. As soon as I have her, I'll get out of here and leave you to deal with the rest of your problems."

"Oh no…" whispered Dutch.

"Well, Mrs. Lennox," responded Charlotte, now recognizing who she speaking to somewhat, "I am afraid that I'm dealing with a massive crisis that could decide the fate of our entire planet. I am not a babysitter."

Okay, Simmons was beginning to wonder if she really knew how close to disaster she was treading currently. She might recognize her name and family, but she apparently didn't truly understand who Sarah Lennox was. Even he eventually understood the madness of antagonizing her.

Continuing, the governmental woman pointed out, "Last that I knew, however, the child was left in the care of former Agent Simmons."

As she pointed the man out to the mother, the wheelchair-bound man couldn't help feeling a little betrayed and afraid. Charlotte had essentially thrown him to the sharks. Apparently it was every man for them self.

Mrs. Lennox marched towards him, her gaze burning straight into his head with such intensity that he could practically feel flames. She seemed to sense that something was wrong and that he knew what it was. Dutch, in an act of pure loyalty and insanity, moved in between the mother and his boss. Simmons knew that even his trusted assistant would not be enough to save him, however.

"Where is my daughter?" she asked in a quiet, intense voice.

"I'm sorry. It isn't our fault. She is very sneaky and clever," Dutch tried to explain swiftly, his eyes widening in mild panic. "Please don't rip my head off."

Her expression becoming even more frightening, a mixture of parental worry and terrifying fury, Mrs. Lennox grabbed both Dutch and Simmons by the collar. Even if she was careful not to injure the man wearing the neck brace with her actions, she still managed to pull them both close to her and glared and the flinching individuals.

"Where _is_ she?"

Knowing that there would be no escape from his fate and that he would not be able to avoid answering her question any longer, Simmons closed his eyes and quietly responded, "We… think she's in Chicago."

* * *

She felt a mild moment of pride when her improvised grappling glove bomb exploded. It was later than she'd hoped and initially missed its target, but it still managed to damage Soundwave before he escaped. Mikaela decided to count it as a success.

Even better was the fact that, from what she could see as she and Sam ran from relative-cover to relative-cover, the tide had turned and the Autobots seemed to be winning again. The trio of racecars was taking out quite a few of their enemies and the NEST soldiers were laying down fire on the Decepticons from a variety of angles. Even in the middle of all this chaos, unarmed and mostly defenseless, she couldn't help feeling hopeful. From this angle, it was nearly impossible to miss the glowing pillar and any second now, she knew someone would take the shot.

As if summoned by her optimistic thought, Optimus burst into view. In a manner that only he could manage, the mech began to move across the battlefield without even slowing down as he struck at the Decepticons closest to him. The twins came into view from the same direction that the Autobot leader arrived, but all attention was now on Optimus as he finally paused in his assault to aim a weapon in a partially off-lined Decepticon's grip away from the battlefield. He fired once, hitting the pillar and sending the glowing object tumbling out of view before he finished off the Decepticon whose gun he borrowed.

Without missing a beat, the Autobot shouted, "Get down here, Sentinel."

The red mech, clearly angry at having his plan interrupted, drew his weapon and stated, "You forget your place."

The traitor leapt down and the fight between the pair began. It wasn't a straightforward shoot out. It was a duel. The pair of mechs was dealing with close combat weapons, trying to strike their opponent with their sharp-edged instruments. Even at a distance, Mikaela could see that this was clearly personal for both of them. Each felt betrayed by the other, feeling that their fellow Prime had turned against something important.

"I bring you Cybertron, your home, and you still choose humanity?" Sentinel cried out, punctuating each phrase with another strike of his weapon.

"You were the one who taught me freedom is everyone's right," responded the Autobot leader, fending off another blow.

Spotting a police car on the edge of the improvised battlefield, one that was mostly intact and was likely shoved through that glass window early into occupation on Chicago, Mikaela felt a grim smile cross her face. She gave Sam a quick look before pointing at her target. Once again, her boyfriend understood swiftly that she had a plan. And, since it wasn't that complicated a plan, he could guess exactly what she had in mind. It was time for a little demolish derby. If nothing else, it was better than standing around useless.

"I _will_ re-trigger that pillar," remarked the red mech.

Optimus responded simply, "Then you'll have to go through me."

Preparing to make a break for the vehicle, Mikaela was stopped as her boyfriend grabbed her arm. She glanced at him questioningly.

"Dylan," Sam growled.

A quick look across the chaotic battlefield demonstrated that the traitor to humanity was still running around. In fact, he was literally running. Not in panicked flight, but in a determined manner with a clear goal. He might not be moving as fast as possible due to obstacles scattered across the destroyed terrain and because she doubted that he was experienced at such activities, but he was still covering quite a bit of distance.

"He's going after the pillar," snarled the dark-haired young man. "I have to stop him. He can't turn it back on."

He was right. They couldn't risk that traitor starting the space bridge back up. And Sam, with all his practice, was the faster of the two of them. She would only slow him down, something they couldn't risk in this situation. He was the only one of them who might be able to reach Dylan before he turned it back on. Just like he was the only one who could help Optimus back in Egypt…

No, she refused to remember how close she came to losing him that day. Especially now, when the situation was so dangerous and it was so easy to imagine something like that happening again. She refused to think about what might happen if Sam was too slow in dodging danger.

Nodding, Mikaela stated, "All right. I can handle things on my end. You stop Dylan. Be careful; just because he isn't a giant robot doesn't mean he isn't a danger. And if you get killed, I'll never forgive you. And I'll break up with you."

With that infuriating smile of his, he leaned over and kissed her. For just a moment, she was able to forget about the battle, the danger, and everything. It was just her and Sam, together exactly how they were meant to be. The old shallow girl who would never have given him a second glance was long gone; now, she couldn't imagine her life without the rambling young man. Even with all his faults, he was perfect for her. Then that moment, no longer than a couple of seconds, was over and he pulled away.

"Then I better make sure to stay alive, 'Kaela," he whispered before taking off across the treacherous terrain.

* * *

Everything was getting louder and more chaotic. Lots of soldiers and robots were fighting against other robots now. She couldn't get close to the right building without going through all of that. Not unless she went the long way around. And even that might not work.

Annabelle stared at the clashing figures for several seconds before scrambling forward. She'd already come this far. All of the Cybertronians and humans were too busy to notice her anyway. Hopefully. Maybe.

Her mission still in mind, the young girl kept an eye out for the red mech and the un-uniformed man as she ran. As hard as she looked, however, she couldn't quite spot either traitor in all of that confusing mess. And it wasn't like target practice with Ironhide; it was even louder, messier, and scarier. She didn't like it.

As she moved past another alleyway, a large grey shape caught the child's eye. Unlike every other figure, he wasn't moving around and destroying stuff. His hooded head was turned skywards, apparently staring at the weird thing in the sky. The fact he wasn't fighting anyone at the moment gave her hope that he wasn't a bad robot, even if she didn't recognize him and she couldn't see his eyes. Besides, she was curious about why she was alone and hidden like this.

* * *

"Cybertron… you are saved, at last," the Decepticon commented quietly.

Victory was so close. His plans had finally proven a success. The space bridge had activated, Cybertron was appearing, and the Decepticon forces should be finishing off any resistance. Even if progress had temporarily halted, it was a minor and easily fixable problem. All that he, Lord Megatron, needed to do currently would be to simply bask in this glorious moment. Not only was his home planet about to be restored, and under his control, but the entire insect race on Earth would be under his rulership. Granted, the miserable rock would likely be torn apart by the gravity of Cybertron's presence, but that was a small loss. A fitting fate for those who kept him frozen like their little experiment for so long: enslavement and the loss of their home planet.

A small movement caught the mech's attention and momentarily distracted him from his thoughts of victory. A quick look demonstrated it was only a small organic, barely worth any notice. Still, he was in a rather good mood for once: Cybertron would soon be rebuilt, his decision to use Sentinel Prime had proved useful, and all of his plans had succeeded. He could indulge in a little conversation, even with a pathetic insect. Gloating is no fun if there is no audience.

"Have you come to surrender?" he asked.

The tiny organic took a step forward, apparently trying to get a view under his hood. From what he could observe, it was a female of especially young age. She was filthy, making her more disgusting than her species normally was. He felt mildly curious how the insect managed to survive this long considering that the city was a rather hostile location for humans currently, but he wasn't that interested in the answer.

Quietly, she answered, "No."

"Then what are you doing, slave?" Megatron asked, pushing his hood back.

She flinched slightly as she caught a glimpse of his crimson optics, but she responded to his question firmly, "Looking for Sentinel Prime or Mr. Dylan Gould."

Not expecting that to be her answer, the mech continued his inquiring of the youngling, "And why would you be looking for them?"

"Because they are traitors and need to be punished," she declared, her expression turning angry.

Finding the idea of the tiny human "punishing" Sentinel, let alone an adult of her own species, amusing in its ridiculousness, he decided to indulge the conversation a little longer without killing her. She'd shed her initial nervousness when the discussion shifted towards the two individuals she was searching for. The young insect might not be the most intelligent being in the universe considering her intent, but she certain seemed to be displaying more courage than many of her species.

The mech commented, "While I don't know where the organic ran off to, I know that Sentinel is nearby. He was busy watching proceedings from one of the buildings last time I saw him. He shouldn't be hard to miss." He vaguely heard her mutter a soft thanks for the information. Continuing, he asked, "So, you believe that these two are your enemies? And you intend to 'punish' them?"

"Yes," she nodded. "They've done lots and lots of bad things." She gestured around her, "All this stuff is their fault. Like the thing in the sky and all the broken buildings and… and everything else"

"What?" he snarled. "What do you mean 'their' fault?"

She flinched at his outburst, "S-sorry, sir."

"Explain what you mean, insect," he ordered. " _Now_!"

"Um… Daddy, the Autobots, and everybody were talking about how Sentinel Prime did the thing with pillar things that made lots of bad robots show up. And Mr. Dylan Gould kidnapped 'Kaela and other bad stuff. Those two are the only ones that the grownups have been talking about, so I thought…" she described before trailing off.

"So, the only ones receiving credit for _my_ brilliance is a pathetic human slave and Sentinel?" Megatron snarled.

The young organic took an uneasy step backwards, "M-mostly they were talking about Sentinel. He's supposed to be the one doing all important stuff. Sorry… I thought he was supposed to be in charge of the bad guys now that he turned evil."

"He's my puppet," he growled. "I used him. It was my plan, my idea, _my_ victory. All of this was _my_ design. And my enemies think that Sentinel is behind all of it?"

He slammed his fist into the concrete chucks beside him, causing cracks to form and the stone fragment to break away. Vaguely, he was aware of the small insect scurrying away. He let her go, no longer caring what she did. His Decepticons were finally conquering this pathetic planet and bring their own home back to its former glory, but he wasn't the one leading the way to greatest success. His efforts to lower the guard of those around him by acting weaker than he truly was had proven too effective. He'd convinced them that he was no longer a threat at all and completely impotent as a leader. He was not the one who would be remembered for this day's outcome. No, all that would be remembered would be that Sentinel's technology and his actions resulted in their victory. Even one of the organic younglings thought that Sentinel was now the leader.

"He will not be leader. It will be me. It will always be me," he snarled.

He had a choice now: wait and destroy Sentinel after Cybertron was restored to its former state, which meant risking the glory of this triumph going to the other Cybertronian, or taking action before the end and asserting his position as the only one in charge. Either way, that red mech would _never_ gain control of his forces. If Starscream couldn't manage to wrestle leadership away after all of this time trying, the former Autobot had no chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago, someone left me a review on one of my stories (posted on Fanfiction.net). They wanted to have Annabelle and Megatron meet (in a way that would not result in the Decepticon crushing her underfoot). At the time, I had no idea of how to do this while retaining proper characterization. I knew it would take a very specific situation to allow this to happen, but I couldn't think of how to arrange that type of event at the time. Other reviewers have made similar suggestions over the years, but I still never found a way.
> 
> Then "Dark of the Moon" came out and we had Carly going off and insulting the Decepticon to his face (and not getting killed for it). Granted, this survival proved that Megatron had lost his edge in the movie, but the scenario finally offered a chance. As long as she didn't do something as stupid as Carly, it seemed possible to actually make it work. So, in dedication the request made by readers who actually wanted to see this happen for a long time, I finally had Annabelle and Megatron meet. I hope that I kept them in character and didn't stretch the level of believability too much.


	20. Suicidal Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone tries to do something crazy...

It seemed like all Sam had ever done since he first put his ancestor's glasses on Ebay was run. He'd run after his Camaro when he thought it was being stolen. He'd run away from Barricade when he tried to question the teenager. He'd run with the AllSpark Cube to keep the Decepticon's from taking it. He'd run _towards_ Megatron to kill the mech with same object. He'd run from Alice when she attacked his college. He'd run through the forest as three aggressive Decepticons fought the Autobot leader protecting him until Megatron stabbed Optimus Prime when his focus was diverted. He'd run across the desert, dodging weapon fire and trying to reach still Autobot's form in time. Every encounter in the past that involved Cybertronians ended with the dark-haired youth running. When dealing with mechanical beings of such immense size and firepower, there were few viable options for an unarmed and untrained human and fleeing was the best one available. And, during his free time in college, he'd finally decided to improve his skills.

He didn't take track. It might have improved his speed, but he rarely ended up having to run for his life in open areas with smooth footing. Instead, he sought out a lesser known and more flexible style of moving across an area at speed. It was only a small club on campus, but Sam joined the free-running group and began learning the skills needed to move across an urban environment without even slowing down when he encountered an obstacle. Jumping, climbing, and sliding past the different obstructions, Sam learned how to traverse the rough terrain without hesitation or difficulties. By the time Laserbeak arrived at his job, the young man had turned fleeing at high speed into an art form.

And now, amongst the chaos and destruction of Chicago, he was running again. Sam leapt over chunks of concrete, slid under bent metal poles and across crushed cars, and moved through the insane landscape without slowing down in the slightest. He moved at the same speed a normal person would across unbroken terrain. He didn't flinch at the explosions and crashes around him. All of his concentration was focused on moving past each new obstacle without having to reduce his speed.

Dylan might have a head start, but the man likely never practiced running in his life. The businessman never had the proper motivation to learn how to travel across a city in the midst of disaster. He might have worked with Decepticons for years and even knew of their existence most of his life, but Dylan had never fled towards a distant skyscraper with a large cube in his arms in order to ensure that a malevolent group never gained that power. The man might be willing to sell out his entire species by manipulating those around him, but he'd never scrambled across the sand while a battle raged around him and the revived monster from the past strove to extinguish him before he could help the mech he respected the most. Dylan may be a lot of things, but the suave individual was _not_ Sam. He had plenty of talents and tons of charisma, but running was what the young man excelled at. Sam was catching up and fast.

"Dylan," he called as the man turned, braced his legs against a broken stone column, and began trying to dislodge the concrete shape.

The businessman pushed hard enough to send the round stone structure rolling down towards his pursuer. It slightly delayed Sam, forcing him to dodge the heavy object. The dark-haired man then used the moment to attempt to increase distance again.

"Dylan," Sam called again. "Stop."

The traitor turned around and pointed a gun in the young man's face. A normal, human-based weapon. It seemed almost ridiculous compared to some of the items pointed at him in the past, but it was still capable of killing him. The filthy and tired youth put his hands up defensively.

"Stop," he repeated in as calm and reasonable a fashion he could manage. "You can't do this. Okay?"

Unwavering, Dylan stated, "There's only one future for me."

Sam knew that this insane traitor would kill him. Any second now, the older man would shoot him and reactivate the pillar, thus dooming the entire planet. Mikaela was right about the man being dangerous, even if he wasn't a Cybertronian. The young man was out of options and out of time. After everything he'd deal, he was about to be killed by an ordinary human with a gun. His luck had finally run out.

Or perhaps not. A stray newspaper, blown by the wind, smacked into Dylan. The businessman knocked the entangling paper away, but was distracted from his opponent for just a second. Sam didn't waste his chance and dove towards the traitor. He punched him, knocking the older man down. He threw another punch, right across the face. The gun was quickly lost in the attack, leaving the traitor as a vulnerable enemy that the young man could handle again. It was rather satisfying to actually hit his girlfriend's kidnapper.

Dylan shoved away the young man, struggling to reach the nearby pillar. Sam struggled just as hard to prevent that result. It was hard to tell which of them were closer to succeeding. Then, the businessman pulled free just enough to smack the device.

The pillar floated back into its vertical position with a hum and the light launched back towards the sky. The Decepticons' plan was back in motion.

* * *

The car wasn't in terrific condition, but she was already working on the thing as quickly as she could. Mikeala vaguely noticed the irony of hotwiring the police vehicle to use against the Decepticons considering that, even now, Simmons sometimes still refer to her as the "criminal girlfriend." But most of her focus was getting the car moving _now_ and not getting killed as the battle continued to intensify.

The young woman could overhear some of the fighting enough to know that Sentinel called upon the remaining Decepticon ships to start laying cover fire on Optimus Prime. But she'd also been able to hear the NEST and the other Autobots attempting to offer assistance in fending off the traitorous mech, regardless of how little success they were experiencing against the red Cybertronian. She didn't think that her planned car attack would be much more useful against Sentinel than the combined might of NEST and the Autobots, but she intended to do something. There were still a few Decepticon stragglers trying to recover from the earlier arrival of Optimus, the twins, and the racecar trio. She could deal with them at least.

"… Warrior Goddess?" a tired voice groaned just before she managed to get the engine to finally start.

The dark-haired young woman jerked in surprise at the interruption, but she leaned her head out of the vehicle to locate the speaker. Even if she hadn't recognized the voice, she only knew of one individual who used that name for her.

"Wheelie? Are you…?" she began before she spotted the tiny mech. Dripping wet, he was barely recognizable in his partially-crushed state. A smashed eye, a limp arm, and limping slowly towards her unsteadily, the ex-Con looked like he'd hit by a bus. Her small roommate was far more vulnerable than his larger brethren and here was the proof. She leaned over and scooped up her injured friend protectively, "What happened?"

"Crashed one of the Decepticon's ships," he mumbled, his small frame relaxing against her as Mikaela went back to starting the police car. He sounded completely exhausted. "Landed in the water."

She knew the scrap drone probably the best and she could only imagine how terrified he would have been moving across the battlefield half-blind, hurt, and completely unarmed. Now he was relatively safe and she intended to keep him that way. He was her responsibility since the moment she first caught him trying to steal the shard and she wasn't going to let him out of her sight until he was fixed.

The engine turned over finally, though the sound wasn't quite right. In normal circumstances, she would take this car back to the garage and give the entire thing a lot of repair work. But, considering she was about to trash the thing, she didn't care how pathetic it sounded.

Mikaela briefly debated fastening the seatbelt, but quickly decided against it. A quick exit from the car could quite likely be necessary. She shifted into drive and located her first target.

"Hang on tight," she ordered her companion, slamming her foot to the accelerator.

The vehicle didn't take off like racecar out of the destroyed window it was stuck in so much as it launched roughly across broken pavement with plenty of bouncing and screeching. It was official: the shocks would never recover. But the car was picking up speed as she hurtled roughly towards the closest Decepticon and avoided the soldiers. As she hit the optimal velocity, the young woman activated the cruise control.

"Uh… Warrior Goddess?" the ex-Con asked uneasily, turning his only working eye towards the large mech they were headed straight towards.

She didn't answer Wheelie. Instead, she deactivated the cruise control and jerked the wheel just in time to fishtail the police car. The rear of the vehicle slammed into legs of a Decepticon and knocked him off balance as she accelerated out of arm's reach. She knew that the soldiers would take advantage and move in on the opponent now that she'd created this particular opportunity.

With her new direction, she was heading towards a raised chunk of pavement. Beyond the obstacle, Mikaela could spot another Decepticon. Her crazy plan quickly adapted and she hit the brakes to slow down to a reasonable speed.

"Brace yourself," she advised, opening the door.

Without any real hesitation, she reactivated the cruise control as she dove out of moving vehicle. She wrapped herself protectively around the hurt Cybertronian in her arms, taking the brunt of the punishment as she rolled across the pavement. She scraped up her arms rather impressively, likely left some major bruising across her body, and her outfit would never be the same again, but she was alive.

The car continued without her, regaining its earlier speed. The police vehicle hit the pavement chunk and kept going, acting as if the raised surface was a ramp. The car then became airborne and finally crashed into the unsuspecting Decepticon. The mech went down hard and the armed humans moved in to finish the job.

"You're… crazy as Mini-Ironhide," muttered the tiny Cybertronian in her arms, sounding nearly as breathless and shocked as the young woman who'd just leapt out of a moving vehicle felt. "Least you… didn't _chose_ to come. The kid's crazy."

Before she could ask what Wheelie was bringing Annabelle up for, the earlier light reappeared. The beam headed straight towards the sky, and Cybertron, again. Mikaela felt a surge of panic. If the pillar was reactivated… what was happening to Sam?

* * *

Even as he blocked the strikes of an ax and sword with his shield, parrying the weaker attacks from the other Autobot forces, and shrugging off most of the humans' attempts, Sentinel was still able to pay attention to the rest of his surroundings to notice and appreciate the moment when the pillar was reactivated. Even if Optimus and his forces didn't want what he was offering them, he knew it was for the best. The restoration of their home world was nearly in his grasp. The organic creatures would rebuild what was destroyed. And he would rule the repaired planet, the human slaves, and the Cybertronians as the benevolent leader who would bring back the days of glory.

Sentinel blocked another strike from Optimus' sword with his own dual-blade. His fellow Prime still fought against his plan. It was rather disappointing that he continued to struggle, continued in his attempt to stop what had to happen. Optimus refused to face the facts. They were meant to take their rightful place on Cybertron as masters over the small organics, not to hide as refugees on their primitive planet. If Optimus would not bow to his wisdom and accept the truth, he would have to ensure that the Autobot would never try to interfere again.

No force in the universe would prevent him from both having Cybertronians take their correct role as rulers over humanity and having Sentinel take his true responsibility as the ruler over everyone.

* * *

He'd reactivated the pillar. He'd ensured the victory of the Decepticons and, more importantly, his position as the human representative for them. His future was secure. His life and power was safe. Everything was going right again.

Now, all Dylan had to worry about was the meddlesome Sam Witwicky. The young man, still practically a kid, had been a problem for far too long. He'd caused trouble for the Decepticon forces since the beginning and even stealing his girlfriend for blackmail didn't quite stop him. If he took care of the annoying youth or at least kept him from getting involved again, it would certainly improve his standing with the future rulers of the planet. Too bad he'd lost his gun already in the struggle. He'd have to use less refined methods to deal with him.

Dylan was on top of the younger individual. He used a combination of punches, kicks, and even simply stomping to pummel Sam mercilessly. He may not have much experience in physically fighting, but he knew that the impacts would likely be having some effect on his victim.

"You chose sides?" he taunted, landing another blow against the youth. "You chose wrong."

He stomped extra hard, forcing the young man to fall between two chunks of concrete to the ground below. Dylan couldn't see if he landed roughly or managed to end up on his feet. Either way, he doubted the youth would be able to do anything to help his friends now. The Decepticons had won. _He_ had won.

* * *

First, Simmons had been positive that she was about to murder him. Every instinct he possessed was screaming that he was about to die and the expression that Sarah Lennox wore seemed to promise extreme violence. Memories of nature videos displaying mother bears protecting their offspring flashed through his mind and Dutch's fear of having his head ripped off sounded very logical.

Then, all the anger seemed to drain away and the woman crumbled into despair. Her grip on the men loosened. She transformed from an unstoppable force of nature into a heart-broken and terrified parent. Her daughter was in danger and she was too far away to do anything about it.

Simmons exchanged a quick look with his assistant. While both of them were glad not to be dead, they needed to say _something_. They had to let her know that not all hope was lost, even if they don't really have anything to say that might accomplish that. Besides, even if she wasn't angry right now, it would return eventually and it might be best to deal with the situation now.

"Well… she seemed fine last time we saw her," Dutch pointed out. "She was running around Chicago, but she's probably not in any real danger."

* * *

She'd run away from the scary Decepticon when he started yelling angrily. Annabelle didn't know what made him so mad, but she didn't want to stay near him. Even the chaos of the battlefield seemed better. She didn't know who he was for sure, but his creepy eyes and sharp claws made him even scarier than Barricade when she first met him.

Now she was running again, dashing between pieces of concrete. She didn't know for certain which way she was even going anymore. She couldn't see the glowing light on the building and there was lots of Cybertronians and soldiers everywhere. The girl was even moving close to a few of the adults, but they didn't seem to notice her since they were focused upon the towering Decepticons and the flying ships they were shooting at. Because she was below chest height, none of them tried to stop her as she dashed wildly across the battlefield.

As she paused momentarily to catch her breath behind another section of broken and crumbling concrete, Annabelle looked up to take in her surroundings properly. The child covered her ears and tried to spot a familiar face among the combatants. It was all too overwhelming. She was right in the middle of everything and she didn't know what to do. Her plan to punish the mean traitors was beginning to seem impossible. How was she going to find them in all of this and how was she going to do anything if she _did_ find them? For a moment, the girl just wanted nothing more than to go home and to leave all the loud, messy fighting behind.

Then, her gaze was pulled over towards where the scary chaos seemed to be the worst. She was actually fairly close, but her earlier state of fearful fleeing from where she left the hooded Decepticon had not allowed her to really notice before. But now she could see that several Autobots and soldiers were attacking one Cybertronian. Their target seemed to be mostly focusing on one opponent, an opponent that she did know. Optimus was fighting the stranger with a glowing sword and ax, but seemed to be having trouble.

Annabelle knew that the Autobot leader shouldn't be having trouble like that. He wasn't Ironhide, but he was still really good at stopping bad guys. Why was it so hard for all of them to beat one red robot…

The child abruptly realized that she'd seen the Cybertronian before, only a lot smaller. Ironhide had shown her a hologram of him after the attack on the base. The meanie that was causing them so many problems was Sentinel Prime. No wonder they couldn't beat him very easily. If he could hurt Ironhide, he _had_ to be tough. It also meant that she'd found one of the traitors and, if she had to guess from the way things were going, he was moving in her general direction.

Crouching down, the blond girl picked up a piece of rebar that had come out of the concrete chunk. It was heavier than the stick she'd tried using on Laserbeak, but it was still about the same length. Maybe it would work better this time. Especially if she didn't just whack it against him like he was a metal piñata. Instead of a bat, she would use it like a sword.

Annabelle closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath. She could do this. Daddy would do it. Ironhide would do it. If they could do it, then she could do it. Especially since this was the mean traitor who _hurt_ Ironhide. He couldn't get away with that.

She couldn't let him get away with hurting her best friend, no matter how big or tough Sentinel might be. She didn't let Carl get away with saying all aliens were bad. She didn't let Barricade bully her or hurt Carl when the bad robot showed up near her school. She didn't even let Laserbeak go near Mommy. She could do this. She could _do_ this.

* * *

"Looks like we're late for the party," Sideswipe remarked as he and his companions finally reached the battlefield. "Hope they left us a few dance partners."

"If not, I'm sure we can cut in," suggested Mirage. "Or rather, you can 'cut' in."

Arcee racing beside them commented, "You've been hanging around the twins too much. Only they would use that bad a pun."

The silver mech, apparently following through with the pun-like suggestion, sliced through the leg of the closest Decepticon that the humans were presently firing at. Mirage threw his hooked whips around the enemy's head and ripped it off. A couple of short yells of excitement from the NEST soldiers followed the decapitation as they proceeded to the next target.

"Where's Ironhide?" asked Sideswipe. "I figured he'd be here already, blasting away."

The femme, feeling rather proud of her sister finally making some progress, commented, "He was distracted momentarily. He and Chromia are just behind us."

"If he doesn't hurry, there won't be any more targets for him to off-line," shrugged the silver Autobot, stabbing into another Decepticon's shoulder.

Before he could finish his new opponent off, a cannon blast struck the Decepticon in the chest and then a smaller blast took out his head. The pink femme knew without turning around that Ironhide and Chromia had arrived.

"I think I had the kill shot on that one," stated the blue femme.

"He was already beat by mine," the weapon specialist countered. "You simply sped it up a little."

"I guess that we'll need a tie breaker then."

"I think we can manage that since we have so many targets," remarked Ironhide, sounding even happier than what battle normally made him.

Secrets between the sisters were impossible, so she already understood far more than the mechs about what they'd missed. Arcee knew that they weren't completely finished with a certain conversation they'd started after her sister's accidental comment. The pair had at least admitted the obvious, that they both cared a great deal about each other. They were postponing the specific details until after the current battle, but Arcee knew that both of the blast-happy Cybertronians would be perfect together.

* * *

A long time ago, before he'd ever heard of Earth or humanity, he would never have imagined fighting against his mentor. He'd never had anything but respect and trust for Sentinel Prime. The red mech was a representation of everything he believed and strived to be, a dear friend and teacher, and simply the last individual to give him a reason to face him as an enemy. He knew the human phrase "putting him on a pedestal" didn't quite describe his view of the mech, but he had once truly held him great esteem.

Now, fending off this particularly difficult opponent, Optimus felt deeply betrayed and disappointed at what this great Cybertronian had become. Very little of his old mentor remained. All of those high ideals and morals, everything that made Sentinel who he once was, had been tossed away. He was not the mech that Optimus once looked up to so long ago. Every strike, every lunge with the dual-bladed weapon, and every word he spoke only further proved how greatly he'd changed from Autobot's memory. The only piece of his recollection of Sentinel that remained was how unstoppable he could be in battle. Even with the NEST and Autobot forces laying cover fire and preventing the Decepticon ships from turning the tide completely, Optimus was barely holding his own against the Cybertronian he once considered his friend.

"You were always the bravest Prime, Optimus," Sentinel commented, blocking another ax swing with his shield, "but you could never make the hard decisions. Our planet _will_ survive."

"No," shouted the Autobot leader, fending off another attempted slash by the red mech.

And for just a moment, Optimus was distracted from his attacking mentor by both a voice echoing his own cry and the detection of a human presence in the immediate vicinity.

* * *

She ran. The piece of rebar tight in her hands, the child ran as fast as she could towards the fighting Cybertronians. She refused to pause, to allow even a moment to think. If she waited, she would start doubting and wouldn't be able to even try. And she had to at least try.

Annabelle wasn't worried about being stepped on by the pair. Sam had once explained that, since the Autobots spent so much time around humans now, they had ensured their systems would always make them aware whenever people where running around their feet so they wouldn't step on their friends. Sam also said that it was a good idea since he'd seen plenty of people who never looked where they were going or never paid any attention to their surroundings at all, even if said surroundings included giant robots, so someone had to watch out for them. Even if Optimus was too busy facing the traitor to see her coming, he would still be warned when she got close so he wouldn't accidentally squash her. And she was watching Sentinel intently, so he wouldn't be able to step on her before she reached him.

The child ran towards her goal, glaring at the red mech that caused so much trouble for everyone. He would be punished for what he'd done. He hurt Ironhide. He made the city a mess. He was attacking Optimus Prime. He was a huge meanie and a bully and a really bad guy. And you had to stand up to bullies and punish bad guys. That was what good guys, what _heroes_ did.

She was getting really close now. If she wasn't used to being around Cybertronians, she knew she'd be nervous about the fast and unpredictable movements of the large beings as they fought. She was close enough now to be able to hear their voices over the rest of the loud noises around her.

"You were always the bravest Prime, Optimus," the red robot commented, blocking another ax swing with his shield, "but you could never make the hard decisions. Our planet _will_ survive."

She didn't know what the Cybertronian was talking about, but she heard the more-familiar Autobot responded, "No."

The traitor was using some type of funny sword with two sharp parts on it. And he was getting really close to hitting Optimus with it. Annabelle couldn't let that happen.

"No," she shouted, dashing between the feet of the transformed semi.

Rather than hitting Sentinel with her piece of rebar, she jammed it between two sections of armor around his ankle. She jerked it back and forth, trying to hurt the stuff underneath.

Annabelle didn't get much time to try, however. She'd barely wedged her improvised weapon into place before the giant metal foot jerked back. The child stubbornly held onto the thin bar as Sentinel tried to dislodge the irritation, refusing to give up yet. The piece of rebar remained exactly where she'd stuck it, proving that she'd jammed it in tightly. Remaining in place herself was proving to be even harder as the traitor moved his foot sharply. She knew that Sentinel wasn't even paying much attention to her, but she was at least trying her hardest to punish him.

The entire sequence of events from the moment she shouted only took a few seconds, but it felt longer to the girl. In actuality, it only took a short time for her to lose her grip. As she lost her handhold, Sentinel gave his foot one final violent jerk that sent her flying terrifyingly through the air.

She didn't know how fast or how far he'd tossed her. All she knew was that she was tumbling wildly until she slammed into something with far too much force. Pain exploded everywhere before darkness swallowed her up.

* * *

His own distraction from the fight was matched by Sentinel's momentarily lapse in attention. The red mech jerked back right before another attempt to stab Optimus. He kept his dual-bladed weapon and shield up in case of retaliation, but the traitor was apparently trying to dislodge something that was irritating him. The Autobot only got a quick glimpse of a small shape before a particularly strong jerk sent it flying away from Sentinel. Even without a good look at the figure, Optimus knew it was both a human being and far too small to be a member of NEST. Unfortunately, he didn't have the opportunity to learn of the small being's fate. Without missing a beat, the traitor turned the movement into a step forward in order to bring his weapon into another slash.

Optimus brought his blade up to block the strike, but the red mech was putting more force behind it than he expected. The attack forced the Autobot back and Sentinel followed through with another attempted slash. This one, he used his ax to deflect.

Smacking the Autobot leader with his shield this time, the traitor stated firmly, "We were _gods_ once, all of us." He struck again as he made this harsh declaration, one that Optimus never would have imagined his old mentor make once upon a time. With another swing of the dual-bladed weapon, Sentinel continued, "But here…"

"Please…" Optimus begged as he endured another strike.

He wasn't begging for mercy. He was begging for the mech he once knew, who he once respected, to return. He wasn't simply facing an enemy in battle. He was observing the last fragments of this friend, of his memory of who Sentinel used to be, shattering and leaving behind only a monster. He wanted nothing more than for his mentor to return to the mech he used to be, but he knew that it was a lost cause even as he spoke. Sentinel Prime, the benevolent leader he once tried to emulate, was long gone and only the traitor remained.

The red mech hit him again, this time catching him off balance with his shield and knocking him to the ground. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Sentinel slammed his large shield across Optimus' chest, preventing him from being able to get his own weapons up to defend himself or even get back up.

Raising his sharp-edged weapon towards the Autobot's head, the traitor finished, "…there can only be _one_!"

Before he could strike, a blast caught the red mech in the shoulder. Reacting quickly, Sentinel rolled off of Optimus and brought his shield up to protect against further attack. The Autobot regained his own footing and prepared himself for whatever happened next.

With surprising swiftness and agility, Megatron's cloaked figure ran into view and opened fire again on the red mech. Though he blocked the worst of the blasts with his shield, the force behind the attack was forcing the traitor to retreat slightly. The red optics of the Decepticon leader were particularly aggressive as he reached them.

"This is _my_ planet!" he snarled.


	21. Three-way Battle

He knew that he'd gained some new bruises on his already pounded body. Dylan might not be an overly-muscular man, but he could still cause some damage when he put his mind to it. But the newest injuries to his poor, battered form were the least of Sam's concerns. The traitorous businessman had reactivated the control pillar. If nearly getting his arm dislocated didn't stop him from stabbing that spike bomb into Starscream, then Dylan had no chance on stopping him. Besides, he made a promise to that jerk when he held Mikaela hostage and he still needed to fulfill that promise.

The young man grabbed a long steel pole. One end still held a roundish chunk of concrete from before the attack on Chicago. It gave the entire thing a rather prehistoric image, like a caveman with a club. Well, he planned to deal with this man in a rather primitive and violent manner.

As he drew near the traitor with his improvised weapon, the older man turned around and saw him. Dylan, rather seeming at all alarmed, smirked slightly. It was clear to Sam that he didn't believe that he'd go through with any real type of assault and that it was too late anyway. Even if Dylan had heard about how he killed Megatron himself back in high school, the man probably didn't think that Sam would be able to do the same thing to a member of his own species. He didn't see a determined and capable young man; he saw a boy who was too dumb to accept defeat. The businessman felt that his victory was assured and didn't see the younger individual as a threat.

"I just saved a whole other world. You think you're a hero?" he taunted, mocking everything that the dark-haired youth had accomplished over the years. " _You think you're a hero?_ "

Dylan was insulting Sam attempts to make a difference, the risks he'd taken, the mistakes he'd attempted to correct, the lessons he'd learned regarding responsibility and sacrifice, and all the obstacles that he'd faced since the day he first visited that used car lot. He might not be as impressive a hero as Lennox, the members of NEST, or any of the Autobots who spent every day trying to make the world safe for the rest of the population, but he still tried to make a positive difference in the world. He may not be trained for these situations, but he no longer tried to ignore the call to arms in an attempt for a normal life. He'd matured from those days and accepted his role. He did not refuse to come when he was needed, even if others didn't ask him to. This was his planet, his species, his allies, and his _friends_ who were on the line and he would do everything in his power to help them.

But Dylan would never understand. He was trying to destroy everything just so that he could have power in the aftermath. The businessman sold out his own species to the Decepticons to be slaves, turned Sam unwilling into a spy against the Autobots, held his girlfriend hostage, ordered Soundwave to attempt an execution of Bumblebee, continued to promote the Decepticon's agenda by restarting the control pillar, and simply was the worst monster in a tailored suit that Sam had ever seen. He neither wanted nor deserved forgiveness for what he'd done.

In a calm tone, the young man answered his enemy with the same words that Mearing tried to dismiss him in the past with. The words that she tried to discourage his attempts to help and be involved in the situation before he proved that nothing in the universe would stop him from doing what was needed.

"No. I'm just the messenger."

With a shout, he swung his makeshift club into the older man. The impact knocked Dylan Gould, the rich and successful businessman and traitor to all humanity, right into the control pillar he'd previously reactivated. Electricity surged through the man's body, frying him in a rather disturbing manner. Sam couldn't look away as the man he promised to kill was being electrocuted to death. As much as he wanted to avoid the pun, the only way the young man could describe his reaction to the scene before him was that he found it "shocking."

* * *

He should have expected this type of betrayal. Megatron was not known for being a trustworthy and reasonable Cybertronian, but he was a necessary evil that Sentinel had decided to risk. Working with the Decepticon leader had resulted in this victory, but he should have been prepared for the aggressive mech to turn against him at some point. That concern had been greatly reduced when he witnessed how injured and weak Megatron had become during his time on Earth. Sentinel felt that, in that condition, the Decepticon would not be a threat and he continued with his plan to save Cybertron.

Only now, with the angry Cybertronian heading towards him far more agility and speed than his so-called "injured state" should allow, did Sentinel truly understand that Megatron was far more cunning than even red mech suspected. The Decepticon leader was hiding his true strength the entire time, even to the extent that he suffered the indignity of being insulted by Sentinel and remaining out of combat, so that no one would realize that he was perfectly capable of fighting. And now, it seemed that Megatron intended to make up for all that lost time.

"It feels so nice to have you both here," snarled the Decepticon, firing another shot that the red Cybertronian barely blocked in time with his shield. "I'm here to finish our little 'arrangement' permanently, Sentinel. And to remove any doubt of who's in charge and who's responsible for this victory." Megatron turned his weapon and fired again, this time towards a dodging Optimus. Stalking towards them with a look of pure rage, he took a moment to fire behind him to destroy the section of the bridge and dividing them from any type of Autobot or human reinforcement that might try to interfere. The aggressive mech then added, "I can also remove a certain hindrance to my plans that should have been off-lined long ago."

"Traitor," accused the red Cybertronian, glaring at his former ally in his attempts to restore Cybertron.

His fellow Prime pointed out, "You have already betrayed those around you. You betrayed _yourself_. Why are you so surprised to receive such treatment? Especially from Megatron."

Sentinel would have responded to such an accusation by explaining that his actions were only to save their race. Everything was to restore their people to their former glory. If only Optimus could see the truth. He would have told the mech to trust his judgment, to understand and accept the needs of the Cybertronians as a whole far exceeded those of the small group who wanted to protect humanity that followed his fellow Prime. Optimus was too stubborn for his own good and Sentinel was rather sorry to see so much potential wasted. He was resigned to the fact he would have to off-line his former friend, but he still wished he could have convinced the mech. Unfortunately, he did not have the opportunity to say anything because another blast from Megatron forced him to dodge.

If only he had his own gun. A lucky shot from a human rocket during the fight made him lose the weapon earlier. Otherwise he would already be reducing the Decepticon leader painfully into a pile of rusted parts for his actions. The loss of his primary distance weapon meant he was forced to depend on more close-combat tactics. Dealing with the lack of his rust-inducing weapon was not a problem when his opponent was also using only short-range strikes, such as Optimus' sword and ax. It was more problematic when his enemy was using a gun of his own. He would have to get nearer in order to fight Megatron. Something that Optimus wasn't even hesitating to attempt.

Even more troubling to Sentinel was how his agility seemed to be mildly compromised. Right before the Decepticon decided to attack, a member of the native species decided to attack with something that was still stuck in place. Whatever the organic being jammed there was causing mild pain and making him limp slightly. Adding the damage the blast to his shoulder that Megatron caused to that resulted in another problem to his maneuverability. Considering that he was facing both a fellow Prime and an unexpectedly-agile Decepticon, he did not need any type of hindrance to his movement.

Optimus was already swinging is ax towards the Decepticon leader, who blocked the strike with his gun. Both Cybertronians were moving smoothly, striking at each other and blocking the returning blow with such perfection that even the most oblivious watcher would realize they had battled each other numerous times in the past. It was actually fairly even. The Autobot was a powerful opponent, but he'd been fighting against untold numbers of enemies since he'd arrived at the city. The Decepticon was merely getting started, but he still possessed several injuries, though not to the extent he had previously portrayed. But, the main thing that captured Sentinel's attention was how focused on they were on each other instead of him. While both currently disliked the red mech, the hatred between these two mortal enemies was too much for them to ignore.

Well, not afraid to take advantage of their distraction, Sentinel started towards them with his dual-bladed weapon ready to slash at whichever Cybertronian he could reach first. As he drew within striking range, the humans who'd been attempting to fight back finally managed to get into position where at least some of them could open fire again. They may not have much on their side beyond numbers, but they could be a rather unpleasant disruption to a plan apparently. Flinching slightly as the shots struck at more vulnerable spots with practiced aim, Sentinel's swing was a little slower than he intended it to be and drew his opponents' attention.

His attempted attack was blocked by Optimus' ax as the Prime swung his sword towards Megatron. The Decepticon deflected the strike with his gun again while throwing a punch towards the Autobot. Sentinel took a chance to smash the shield against Megatron, trying to knock him to the ground. Instead, he merely caused the Decepticon leader to stumble back a few steps and caused Optimus an opening to bring both weapons against the red mech. Sentinel managed to block the downward ax swing, but the sword managed to slice a gash in his side before he could stop it. He jerked backwards several steps, glaring at his former student. Megatron took this moment to fire, hitting the Autobot leader and knocking back an impressive distance. Optimus did not immediately get back up and try to strike back.

Sentinel prepared for the mech to try firing at him next, but the Decepticon was looking up. The red Cybertronian briefly wondered what was distracting Megatron. Then, his gaze was pulled skywards.

* * *

Bumblebee ran towards where he saw the control pillar land earlier. The space bridge had reactivated and he had finally gotten free of the battle enough to pursue the device. Not far behind, the young mech knew that Ratchet was following him. They needed to stop the emergence of their home planet through the space bridge before it was too late.

The yellow Cybertronian spotted his target on a pile of concrete chunks. He was somehow not surprised that Sam was already there. His friend had a habit of being right in the middle of the most important and dangerous events. The young man was probably trying to deactivate the thing himself. Well, Bumblebee could certainly help with that.

The scout activated his cannon and aimed. Sam, likely guessing his plan, scrambled out of the way. The yellow Autobot opened fire as soon as his friend was out of the way and continued to blast away until he reached the control pillar. Then, he tackled the floating device to the ground and crushed it into broken fragments. As far as Bumblebee was concerned, the space bridge would never open again to threaten Sam, humanity, or Earth again.

* * *

The space bridge was closing. No, that wasn't quite right. It was reversing and collapsing. Rather than allowing Cybertron to pass through to this location, it was drawing the dead planet back to where it used to belong. It looked far worse and more destructive to the planet than it actually was, but it was still evidence that his plan had failed. Random flashes of lightning-like bolts lashed out towards the Cybertronian signals of the Decepticon ships at high altitudes, a risk of a destabilized space bridge that he'd predicted. These bolts of energy yanked the ships, pulling them through with Cybertron. The Cybertronians closer to Earth's surface and the less technologically-advanced human crafts would be safe from these anomalies, but the Decepticon ships would be pulled through the collapsing space bridge with their home planet.

Sentinel couldn't help staring momentarily at the destruction of everything he'd worked for. Everything he'd done for his home, for his people, was unraveling. Cybertron was still a dead planet, at least some of the Decepticon forces were now back on that planet, and he had no other way to fix this problem.

"No," snarled Megatron; his optics turning towards the sky and the sight of Cybertron vanishing back through the collapsing space bridge. " _No_."

The aggressive mech moved forward and punched Sentinel across the face, his expression burning with fury. He swung again, sending the red Cybertronian back another step.

"This is your fault," the Decepticon bellowed. "I should have sent Soundwave to off-line you ages ago. Your technology _destroyed_ Cybertron."

"It isn't gone," Sentinel shot back, forcing Megatron to move back by swinging his dual-bladed weapon. "The planet is merely back where it was before." He swung again, forcing his opponent further back, "And this is certainly not my doing. Even your betrayal would not cause me to do this."

"So the Autobots and their pet organics caused this misfortune," growled the angry mech. "Which brings it back to Optimus, as usual." He brought his gun and tried to aim towards Sentinel, but the red Cybertronian swung his shield against his servo to prevent that. Megatron continued, "You'll still take the blame for this, since you will not be around long to argue. Someone must take the fall and it shall not be me."

The Decepticon grabbed Sentinel's injured shoulder with his free servo, digging his claws into the injury. Snarling in pain, the red mech jerked out of his grasp and limped out of range of Megatron. The Decepticon pointed his gun towards him, but Sentinel was already bringing his shield up to defend himself.

"But I'll have to finish off Optimus as well this time," Megatron remarked in a rather contemplative tone. "He and his followers have gotten in the way once too many times. I have to wonder, though… what will it be like without him around? Who will I be without him?"

Watching the Decepticon for the first hint that he was about to fire, Sentinel responded, "I don't know. Who would he be without you?"

"Time to find out," stated Optimus, startling both of them by leaping towards Megatron and swinging his ax downwards to cut off his right servo.

The Decepticon, screaming in pain and fury, stumbled backwards from the unexpected attack. The Autobot continued moving, bringing his sword towards the mech's head. Megatron managed to avoid being decapitated, if only barely. Optimus spun around, his sharp-edged weapons forcing Sentinel to keep his distance and the ax lodged into the Decepticon's side. The injured mech continued to back up, his optics locked on his opponent.

The loss of one weapon barely slowed the Autobot. The transformed semi grabbed the detached arm of the Decepticon leader and used it as a bludgeoning weapon against its owner. Optimus smacked Megatron across the face, using the momentary distraction to grab the ax and ripped it free. Each increasingly-unstable step from the Decepticon took him further from where the humans were trying to offer their limited assistance from across the gap in the bridge. But it didn't appear that Optimus would require much help in finishing off his foe. Megatron was essentially defeated already; he simply wasn't off-lined yet.

Sentinel took advantage of the Autobot's distracted state to strike back against his fellow Prime. He lunged towards him as quickly as he could with his annoying limp, intent in running Optimus through from behind. Only a last-minute movement prevented this action from succeeding. Instead, he hit the Autobot's shoulder with his dual-bladed weapon. Adapting quickly, Sentinel proceeded to tear off his former student's servo with his sharp-edged tool.

Optimus, his attention now firmly on the red mech and no longer holding his ax, spun around with wordless yell. Even missing a servo and clearly tired, he was still able to deflect Sentinel's next attempted strike. And then the next. The red mech continued to swing his dual-bladed weapon at the Autobot, but each slash was redirected by the Prime's sword. Optimus was forced to be on the defensive, however. Sentinel refused to give him an opening to attack and he kept his shield firmly in front of him as he attempted each strike. Eventually he would get another hit on the Autobot and this momentary stalemate would be over.

The standoff did come to an end shortly, but not as the red mech expected. When he took a step forward in another attempt to break through his opponent's defense, his less-than-stable footing ended up crumbling under his weight. Stumbling slightly as he tried to regain his balance, the lodged annoyance that was causing his limp shifted enough to cause a sharp pain. Between the unstable terrain and the unexpected pain, his attention shifted enough that Optimus was able to move in with his sword to knock the dual-bladed weapon out of his grip. Continuing forward, the Autobot smashed into him and caused Sentinel to completely lose his balance.

Crashing to the ground, the red Cybertronian tried to bring his shield up to keep Optimus at bay. His fellow Prime didn't give him the opportunity, stabbing his blade through the shoulder Megatron didn't blast earlier. The sword went all the way through, pinning Sentinel painfully to the concrete beneath him. Giving his former mentor a rather regretful look, the Autobot turned and began walking away towards something lying on the ground.

"Optimus… all I ever wanted was the survival of our race," Sentinel explained, struggling to get free. "You must see… why I had to betray you…"

The Autobot reached down and picked up something. The red mech recognized it as Megatron's gun, the one he'd been holding before his arm was cut off.

Optimus stared at the weapon for a moment before stating quietly, "As I said before, you didn't betray me. You betrayed yourself."

He aimed the gun towards Sentinel's head. The red mech increased his struggles to pull free of his pinned position as he stared at his former student.

Desperately, Sentinel shouted, "No, Optimus…!"

He fired.

* * *

Transforming had been very painful in his condition, but he had little choice. If he remained even a second longer, he would be off-lined by Optimus. Or, even more humiliating, a human. He barely risked the time to grab his severed servo and store it in the bed of his truck form. While Sentinel and Optimus attempted to finish each other off, Megatron chose to employ a tactical withdraw for the time being.

All the Decepticon forces that were still on the planet and able to escape were doing so. This plan had fallen apart and retreat was now the only option. They would need to figure out a new strategy for another day. Until then, his remaining forces would withdraw and hide on the planet until they were needed again.

Driving through the rubble of the organics' city was difficult and there was always the risk that someone would grow suspicious enough to attack him. In his current condition, there would be little that he'd be able to do against them. He needed a way to get past them without gaining suspicion.

Silently, a police car approached the escaping truck and pulled in front of him. Even without the siren and lights, it was clearly escorting the vehicle out of the city. Of course, the police car wasn't in the best condition either, but that could be easily explained by the hazardous surroundings. This was the ideal situation to ensure they proceeded unharmed. No organic would be apprehensive or mistrustful of a police car and, by extension, anyone escorted by such a vehicle. The disgusting creatures had too much faith in these symbols of authority and peacekeeping for that.

With Barricade traveling with him, Megatron would be able to escape the remains of the city without further harm. And, someday, he would rise in power again and off-line whichever of his enemies won the battle. The war was not over yet.

* * *

He was tired, sore, dirty, and completely ecstatic to be alive. Sam knew that his luck at surviving these kinds of situations should have run out years ago, but he was still running around. Getting involved in world-saving events was a familiar and oddly-reassuring occurrence that made him feel truly alive. He gave Bumblebee a small relieved smile as they headed back to where the main fighting seemed to be quieting down.

"Glad to have you back, Bee," he remarked quietly.

He didn't just mean he was glad to be spending time with his friend again after all of his missions and NEST work. He also meant that he was glad that he was still on the same planet as him. He was glad that he and the rest of the Autobots were still alive.

"Missed you," responded the yellow mech with a short sound clip.

Before he could speak further with his favorite Cybertronian, Sam spotted another wonderful sight. Emerging through the smoke and wreckage, surrounded by what looked like a couple of rather impressed NEST soldiers, was his girlfriend. She was completely coated in dirt and ash, her arms were bleeding slightly from scrapes, and she was carrying what the young man first thought was a mass of warped metal before he recognized Wheelie, but Mikaela was still rather beautiful in his eyes.

Sam broke into a run towards her immediately upon seeing her. She only hesitated long enough to set down her rather unsteady ex-Con gently before she broke into her own run. The pair of them met with a tight hug, refusing to release the other from their grip.

"Told you I'd survive," he whispered finally, still holding her against him in a hug.

Just as softly, she answered, "Guess I can't break up with you then."

"I'm sure that you'll get over it, 'Kaela. After all, you love me."

He didn't have to look at her face to know she was smiling, "Maybe… Or maybe I'm just used to having you around."

"Well, I _do_ love you and I promise I'll never let you go. I'll always be there for you and I'll always save you when you need me."

"Promise?"

He finally loosened his grip enough to look Mikaela in the face. She wasn't usually a damsel in distress. The young woman could generally take care of herself in dangerous situations. But even she needed to be saved occasionally. And Sam would always be ready to go after her.

"Of course I do. If this doesn't prove it, I don't know what will."

By this point, Bumblebee had caught up with the young man. The yellow Cybertronian apparently had been listening to their conversation. In response to Sam's last statement, the mech abruptly started fumbling around and small metallic clinks caught the couple's attention as something hit the ground.

Mikaela, spotting the tiny round gears and washers, reached down with a smile, "Rings."

Attempting to ensure his point was made to both of them, Bumblebee then began to hum the Wedding March as the young woman twirled one of the round shapes between her fingers. It seemed that the Autobot was still playing matchmaker. And Sam didn't think that his best friend was wrong in this instant.

She was the girl of his dreams. He used to fantasize about her back when he only saw a pretty figure. Then, after he saw below the surface, he loved her even more. She was brave, resourceful, and wonderful. They had been together through everything and he loved her completely. He never wanted to lose her. If chasing her through a Decepticon-infested warzone in order to save her, with no true evidence that he would even be able to reach her, wasn't proof that he was committed to her, he didn't know what was.

He laughed slightly at the Cybertronian's antics, "Yeah, but Bee… you got to slow down. You got to slow way down, okay?"

He noticed a slight look of disappointment on Mikaela's face, but he pretended to miss it. The opportunity to do this would never come again.

He kept his gaze completely on the yellow scout, stating, "Besides, I don't think that it is a good idea. _You_ shouldn't be the one proposing to Mikaela. Some people are better as friends, after all."

He rather enjoyed the expression of confusion on the mech's face before he realized that Sam was making a joke. He turned back towards a rather startled young woman before he sank to his knee. Kneeling in front of her, ignoring the destruction around them and the fact they were both sweaty, filthy, hurt, and tired, Sam knew it was time.

"I, on the other hand, _should_ be the one proposing," he remarked quietly. "Mikaela, I love you and I want to be with you forever. It may sound corny and cliché and completely weird coming from me, but I'd like to marry you someday. Preferable after a shower and a chance for my arm to recover from Starscream trying to rip it off, but..."

He probably would have rambled a little longer, but he was abruptly interrupted by Mikaela pulling him into a kiss. Instantly, all thoughts stopped working beyond a small corner of his mind pointing out that she had probably accepted. Bumblebee's radio produced a classic sitcom "aww…" sound in reaction to the kiss, but Sam barely noticed the noise.

Finally, his fiancée released him from the embrace. Both of them probably had a slightly goofy expression on their faces. Well, _he_ had a goofy expression. She had a rather sweet smile on hers. It was only after he heard a couple of wolf whistles that he realized that the soldiers that _weren't_ trying to locate and stabilize any injured members were now witnessing the impromptu proposal. Glancing around further demonstrated that several Autobots that no longer had Decepticons to deal with were also close enough to view the event. Not all of the Autobots were present, but at least some were. His proposal to Mikaela had become a spectacle for the winning team. And apparently everyone approved of them getting married.

His fiancée was taking it rather well. She smiled at the comments in a good natured fashion before giving Sam another, shorter, kiss. Then she slid the improvised ring that Bumblebee had provided on her finger.

Then, echoing the same words that Sam used years ago when the Cybertronian first tried to help their love life, Mikaela stated, "I love this car." Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "And I definitely love the driver."

"Done yet?" grumbled Wheelie tiredly, finally reaching the now-engaged couple from where Mikaela left him. "Stop kissing already. We need to find her."

"Find who?" asked the young woman, reaching down for the injured Cybertronian.

"Mini-Ironhide," he answered quietly, sounding so completely out of energy that Sam was surprise the smashed little mech was even still awake. "She's around here somewhere."


	22. Shattered

The moment that Cybertron vanished from sight and the warnings of seismic activity worldwide ended, the mood in the room instantly rose to a high level of excitement and relief. The thought that the space bridge had been deactivated and the alien world was sent back from whence it came filled the population with so much glee that Simmons couldn't help taking the risk. Emotions were running wild for the entire human population; why shouldn't he take advantage of that?

As soon as Charlotte Mearing came within arm's reach, he grabbed her and pulled her into his lap. With a rather pleased grin, Simmons kissed the beautiful woman before she could react or escape. When he stopped, he was rather happy to see that she had a small smile on her face too.

Then, without a single change in expression, she stood up and ordered, "Arrest him."

"Worth it," he cackled gleefully as her commands were followed. "Completely worth it."

Before he went too far, Sarah Lennox stepped in front of his wheelchair. The sorrow and pain that first struck her when she learned of her child's location seemed to be shoved back for the moment. Instead, he was facing the more terrifying determination of a woman on a mission. Her hand was tightly gripping Dutch's arm, who looked absolutely petrified by the contact. The woman glared down at Simmons and he knew that whatever she was about to say, he would have to obey or risk certain doom far greater than the Decepticons could ever hope to deliver.

"I'm taking your assistant. He's driving me to Chicago," she stated firmly. "I need to sleep, but I am going to my baby _now_. So, he's driving me. Understand?"

"Please save me," begged Dutch quietly, glancing between his employer and the woman that he should logically be able to escape from.

"Sorry, Dutch," Simmons apologized swiftly, glad for the excuse. "I'm currently under arrest. You're going to be helping Mrs. Lennox for a while. Just do whatever she says." Then, after a moment, he added, "And be careful."

Sarah dragged her new chauffeur towards the exit before he could say another word. The man in the wheelchair currently under arrest couldn't help feeling that he'd ended up with the better end of the deal.

* * *

He felt very little but regret after he executed his former mentor. Optimus wished that there could have been another way, some possible method to reach Sentinel and convince him not to sacrifice all his morals and an entire planet of life to reach his goals. But there wasn't. Even with all of his statements about the greater good for all Cybertronians, it was clear that he was equally or even more concerned about personal power. Comparing himself to a god and declaring his intention to rule over all, Sentinel had become like Megatron: merciless and unwilling to relinquish even a shred of power. And one such cruel mech in the universe was already too many. He had no choice but to stop Sentinel while he still had the chance. It didn't make him feel any less regretful of the necessity, however.

Optimus knew that now was not the time for that, unfortunately. During the battle, a human had become involved and it had not been one of the NEST soldiers. He may not have been able to notice much about the individual, but he'd been able to recognize enough to tell they were not an adult. His first concern should be to find the child and assess their condition. The destruction of part of the bridge during the fight would slow Ratchet and any NEST medics from reaching either the mystery child or the Autobot immediately. If the brave little human had survived their attempt to attack Sentinel, they were undoubtedly in need of medical attention and he should find child and locate help for them as quickly as possible.

Locating the small figure was easy enough. He remembered the direction the child was flung and a quick thermal scan narrowed the area down. But when he actually saw the young human, the mech was surprised by the fact he recognized the child who tried to take on the traitor.

Lying limply on the broken rubble of the destroyed city, her presence highly unexpected at this location and in this situation, was Annabelle Lennox. The girl was unconscious, clearly hurt, and yet still alive even after being tossed aside by Sentinel. At the moment, she as broken and bleeding, but apparently not in any immediate danger of dying as far as Optimus could observe. Humans as a species, and their young members especially, were remarkably fragile and yet could still survive unbelievable odds. Ratchet would be able to give a more detailed analysis of her injuries and she certainly needed to be taken to a hospital outside the destroyed city, but she seemed to be stable enough to move to a safer location.

Carefully with his remaining attached arm, Optimus gently reached down to the broken child. So many innocent lives had already been shattered or lost in this city, in this _war_. This little girl was simply another who had been pulled into the Cybertronian war and had to face the consequences of that fight.

* * *

Part of him hoped that Wheelie was wrong or lying. Sam wanted to believe that Annabelle _wasn't_ running around Chicago somewhere, that the small Cybertronian wasn't informing him that the kid was in the middle of a destroyed city with dangerous Decepticons on her own, but the young man knew better. As much as the ex-Con annoyed him, he knew that the smashed little guy wouldn't lie about something like this. Especially after the day they'd been having. So the quiet comment about "Mini-Ironhide" being around somewhere was throwing Sam back into his panic mode again.

In fact, it was throwing him into a panic mode that he rarely had the opportunity to indulge in. He was about two steps away from falling into a state blind panic with very little logic involved. He just survived another close encounter with the end of the world. Things should be better now. He glanced up at Bumblebee, but the yellow mech didn't have anything useful to contribute at this moment. He was likely as stunned as Sam by this development.

He was the one that was supposed to be watching her. True, he asked Simmons to take care of her before he left. But, before that point, the girl was his responsibility. Lennox trusted him to keep her safe and she somehow managed to end up here…

"How did she get here?" he asked quietly, trying not to alert any of the nearby soldiers or the other mechs about the news. So far, only him, Mikaela, Bumblebee, and Wheelie knew about her presence in the city. He needed to figure things out before they said anything. "We left her at the launch site."

"Apparently she came with you," answered the tiny blue mech. "Snuck in the car."

"What?"

"Said she came to rescue Warrior Goddess," he continued tiredly. "And punish Sentinel and Gould."

"She called," remarked Sam slowly, horror beginning to truly dawn on the dark-haired young man. "She called me to ask about the building. She said she wasn't with Simmons. Annabelle was trying to get directions from me. Is she crazy? Didn't she realize how dangerous…? She was kidnapped earlier in the week and she decides to do _this_?"

Mikaela, his fiancée and source of stability at the moment, interrupted his building dismay about the situation, "Okay, we'll worry about the specifics later. We need to find her before something happens to her. If she was trying to get to the building, then she could be in the area. There are enough people around right now that we should be able to split up and find her quickly."

"'Kaela, I love you and everything, but have you lost your mind?" asked Sam in a quiet and panicked voice. All of them were still speaking quietly to avoid drawing attention beyond what the earlier proposal caused. "What do think is going to be worse? Telling Lennox and his men that we lost his daughter in a warzone or telling _Ironhide_ we lost her? And what about when Mrs. Lennox appears?"

She grabbed his shoulders and shook him sharply, forcing him out of his mildly-crazed state of horror, "Focus, Sam. Annabelle first, nervous breakdown later. Okay?"

Taking a calming breath, he nodded, "Okay, okay, sorry. I'm all right. Let's find her."

"And we need to tell Lennox," she stated firmly.

"This will not end well," commented Bumblebee through a sound clip.

Locating the man, even with all the NEST soldiers moving around and trying to get organized now that the fight was over, was unfortunately easy. Lennox was right in the middle of things with Epps, trying to restore some order and arrange some outside assistance now that communications were apparently restored. From what Sam could gather, they were trying to get both some helicopters in order to move the wounded to the closest, working hospital and for more people to start combing the city for injured civilians. All the young man could hope for would be that Epps could handle that by himself. Sam knew that Lennox would undoubtedly want to instantly start searching for his daughter once he learned that she was missing and he also knew that the man's best friend would take over the proceedings if that would help the parent.

Lennox gave Sam a slight grin as he and Mikaela approached, "Hey, looks like you survived another day. And, from what's already going around, I'll have to start calling someone Mrs. Witwicky soon. News travels fast, after all."

"We kind of have something to tell you," Sam began uneasily.

Wheelie, still in the young woman's arms, interrupted bluntly, "Your kid's here."

* * *

As soon as the fighting stopped, his real duty began. Ratchet had already assessed the condition of the Autobots he could locate. He'd also taken the time to scold Ironhide for aggravating his previous injury, but he'd determined that none of them had any life-threatening damage that couldn't wait until later. The mech that he was most concerned about, however, was not among the group yet, so he decided to seek him out before too much more time passed.

While Optimus was certainly an effective combatant, he tended to put others before himself and Sentinel would not be an easy opponent. These two factors together informed Ratchet that it was quite a strong possibility that the Autobot leader was injured, but remaining back so that the others would be taken care of first. Since the rest of the team seemed to be stable, he could go across the partially destroyed bridge and find out how much repair work he would have to do on Optimus.

His first hint of the extent of the damage was the mech's severed limb lying on the ground. The fact that the Autobot hadn't at least picked up the limb once the fighting was done to make Ratchet's job a little easier was mildly concerning, but he wasn't too worried yet. He'd dealt with different cases in the past where a mech was simply too distracted to retrieve missing body parts rather than being too injured to do so. Still, it would be nice to know what he was dealing with and most of the Decepticons being gone meant that there was no reason to maintain com silence.

"Prime, would you mind telling me why I found your servo over here, but not you?" he asked over the com-link.

There was silence for a moment before the mech answered, "I'm fine, Ratchet."

"Except for your missing limb?" reminded the transformed ambulance.

"I'll be there momentarily," he continued.

Ratchet noticed that Optimus' tone was very subdued, but he attributed that to the fact that Sentinel and him and once been very close. He knew that the Autobot leader would undoubtedly be blaming himself for all that had transpired for a long time. Convincing him that he could neither have foreseen this nor prevented it would take some truly effective persuasion.

When Optimus did reach him, Ratchet realized that the mech had something more than his old mentor's betrayal and the countless lost lives on his processor. He was carrying something and it didn't take more than a moment for him to identify what, and _who_ , the Autobot was holding so carefully. Somehow, Annabelle Lennox was in Chicago.

"How did she get here?" he asked.

Optimus answered, "I don't know."

Deciding to address the extreme improbability of the child being in this city, let alone this deep behind where the enemy lines had been, at a later time, Ratchet scanned the girl to assess her condition. Due to the differences in size, he was not the ideal individual for treating human injuries, but he could diagnose problems efficiently.

The most concerning damage that he identified that she was suffering from was the minor cerebral contusion. In simplistic terms, it was a bruise on her brain cause by impact. The list of symptoms for this particular injury included the loss of consciousness she was already experiencing along with possible headache, confusion, dizziness, nausea, and sleepiness. She would have to be monitored for about four to six days to ensure that swelling in the surrounding brain tissue did not cause a dangerous increase in intracranial pressure. But, unlike some types of brain injuries, there was a significant chance that there would be no permanent damage.

The next most serious injury was a greenstick fracture to her left radius. A broken arm. A non-life threatening injury, but one that would certainly be a hindrance to the child since the proper treatment included encasing her limb a cast for a period of at least six weeks.

The rest of the damage was of less concern and would heal without outside assistance. Several lacerations, including the most obvious one on her forehead, were present on the child, but none were severe enough to warrant stitches. Bruising was already developing on her face, arm, and side, some of the contusions being fairly extensive. If not for the fact that fracturing a rib was a rare occurrence with children due to their more flexible chest wall, Ratchet would not have been surprised if impact necessary to cause this much damage to the girl's side had broken something. Happily, her ribs were still intact. Regardless, the contusions would be enough to slow the girl down until they healed. Finishing it off was some mild dehydration and she likely hadn't eaten in some time, but that was again something that could be dealt with easily.

"She'll need to be observed for a few days and her arm will need to be treated, but she should be fine," he summarized finally. "Which is rather impressive considering it could have been far worse."

"She ran towards Sentinel. I believe she was attempting to attack him," explained Optimus.

"I… could imagine that. Far too easily," remarked Ratchet. "Lennox was attempting to arrange transport for the wounded when last I saw him. I believe we should inform him of his daughter's condition."

* * *

She didn't want to wake up. Her brain felt all mushy and she felt so tired. And, even if it felt kind of weird and far away, everything seemed to hurt. Her head hurt, her arm hurt, her side hurt, and she just wanted to go back to sleep. It was easier to ignore the distant pain, which she thought should have been worse for some reason, if she wasn't awake. But, for some reason, she couldn't help thinking that she was supposed to be doing something important earlier and she needed to wake up so she could find out if she did it or not.

Opening her eyes was hard. They felt too heavy and the light was far too bright. Tiredly, she tried to rub her eyes in response to painful brightness, but found it very difficult to move one of her arms. But eventually she managed to open her eyes properly and look around.

She was in a room. A white room that was fairly quiet, which seemed strange since she kind of remembered everything being loud earlier. Looking around further, Annabelle saw that she was in a bed, but not her bed. It was a strange bed. But it was also a soft bed, so she could probably go back to sleep…

Stubbornly trying to pull her mind out of the fog, the girl pushed herself up into a sitting position. Instantly, she knew that was a bad idea. Her head started feeling all spin-y and the dull, distant ache that she felt all over suddenly became very sharp and noticeable. She closed her eyes and _refused_ to lie back down. After a few moments, the dizziness stopped and the pain reduced back to that far away ache again. Once she was sure that everything was okay again, she opened her eyes and looked around better.

The white room was kind of small, but it had a window and a couple of doors. One door opened up into some kind of hallway, but she still didn't really know where she was. The room also had a couple of small plastic chairs in the corner and the occupants made Annabelle smile.

Her mom and dad were sitting there, apparently asleep. Daddy was still wearing his uniform, even though it was kind of dusty-looking right now. He had his arm around Mommy's shoulder and she was leaning against him as they slept. It was rather nice to see them both. She hadn't seen her mom since Laserbeak grabbed her and she hadn't seen her dad since the Autobots...

Her thoughts were interrupted as she moved her arm and realized that something was on it. Curious, the girl looked at the limb that was partially tucked under her blanket. While she'd never had one before, she recalled a kid from school in a different class wearing a cast at recess once. She remembered that he had to wear it because he broke his arm falling out of a tree and couldn't take it off until it was better. She wondered how she ended up with a cast, but she was too sleepy to really think about it much. Her other hand was attached to some kind of tube thing that connected to some type of bag of liquid on a pole. Even odder was how the pole had wheels on it so that it could roll around the floor.

There was also some kind of small table that sat beside the bed. On it as the contents of her pocket from earlier. Her clothes were currently missing and she was wearing some kind of funny gown, but her black crayon and her cell phone were sitting there.

The phone reminded her of something important. Chicago. She went to Chicago and it was loud and scary, but she kept going anyway because she had to punish the bad guys. It was really chaotic and that one Decepticon with a hood got mad at one point. But she kept going because it was the right thing to do. And then she saw that red mech, Sentinel Prime. She saw the mean traitor who hurt Ironhide. She needed to find him.

She reached over and picked up the cell phone. But before she could speak, an idea sparked. What if he wanted to know where she was? She didn't know the answer to that question. But, as she looked towards the window, she might be able to find out.

Carefully and quietly so that she didn't wake up her parents, Annabelle slowly tried to slide out of the bed. She felt really sore and tired, but she managed. Holding onto the funny metal pole with the clear bad of liquid stuff that connected to her hand, she started to roll it over to the window. The effort was making her head kind of pound and her side hurt, but she was making progress.

As her she caught her distorted reflection in the shiny surface of the pole, Annabelle noticed that most of the left side of her face seemed to be purplish, like how she sometimes bruised her knees when she bumps into things. It would certainly explain why her head hurt. But she never let a little thing like a couple of bruises slow her down.

As she reached the window, the girl grabbed onto the window sill to steady herself with her cast-encased hand. She shouldn't be this tired just from walking across the small room, but everything seemed too hard. She was simply too tired, her mind was too mushy-feeling, and she felt too battered.

Looking outside, she saw that she was a few floors up and her window was overlooking a parking lot. She didn't recognize the surroundings and couldn't identify where she was, but she did see something familiar. Sitting down there, among the variety of more ordinary vehicles, was a wonderful black truck with a blue motorcycle parked beside him. Ironhide, her best friend in the whole world, was sitting down there with Chromia and they were safe. As she leaned over further, trying to see them better, the black truck abruptly flashed his head lights at her and the bike quickly followed suit. The girl waved back carefully with her hand that wasn't in a cast.

Unfortunately, before she could activate her cell phone, a woman wandered into the room, "Looks like someone's awake. What are you doing over… Honey, put that down. You can't use a cell phone in here."

The blond woman was wearing one of those doctor outfits that the girl sometimes saw when she went for a check-up. She looked a little worn out, but she was smiling at Annabelle. She walked over and took the phone out of her grip. She then led her carefully back to her bed and set the cell phone back on the table.

"And how are you feeling?" she asked, looking into the child's eyes carefully.

"Sleepy and sore," the girl admitted. "And my head feels weird."

"We gave you some medicine that should help keep you from hurting as much," the woman explained, pointing at the tube thing on Annabelle's hand. "That's what's causing some of that weirdness. I need you to do something for me, okay? Can you tell me your name?"

Obediently, she answered, "Annabelle Lennox. What's your name?"

She smiled, "My name is Dr. Morgan. Did you walk over there by yourself?"

"Yes. I didn't want to wake up Mommy or Daddy. I was trying to figure out where I am."

"You're at a hospital. You had an accident," she explained in a calm and soothing voice. "I need you to follow my finger for a minute with your eyes. Can you do that for me?"

It seemed kind of silly to watch the woman move her finger back and forth like that, but Mommy always told her to do what doctors said to do. So Annabelle complied. When the woman finished, she smiled at the child.

"That was very good, Annabelle. You did a wonderful job. Now, do you need anything right now before I leave? I have several other patients to check on."

"No," the girl answered simply.

"Okay, try to get some rest. And don't use the cell phone. They can sometimes mess with some of the machines in the building," Dr. Morgan stated as she headed back towards the door. "I'll be back later to check on you. And, if your parents aren't awake by then, we might want to let them know that you're up anyway."

Once more on her own, Annabelle considered going to sleep again. It would be nice and it might make her feel better. But she eventually decided to stay awake and wait for someone else to come in who might know what happened to everyone. Until then, she needed something to entertain herself.

After a moment of thinking, she reached over to the small table and picked up the small crayon stub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did the research to find logical injuries that Annabelle might sustain. I'm not a doctor and I've been lucky enough in my life to avoid most serious injuries, so I may have made some mistake at some point in describing everything, but I did my best. If anyone has any corrections to make, let me know. And it is rather disturbing for me to write a description for a hurt Annabelle. I just wanted to give her a hug and tell her that I'm sorry for being so mean. I take this as a sign that I'm far too attached to the kid.


	23. Healing

There was plenty of damage, both to the buildings and to the lives of Chicago's inhabitants. Untold numbers of people, some military and some civilian volunteers, were flocking to the destroyed city and trying to help. Even though the Autobots would be more than happy to assist in the rescue and repair efforts, they and the humans that were the closest to them were perfectly aware that their presence would likely do more damage currently than it would help. Too much pain had been caused by the invasion of the Decepticons and those who suffered from their actions would not see the difference between the two factions. All they would see would be another Cybertronian.

Since they couldn't be of any direct help to those in the city without causing them extreme distress, Epps had located a small and private airfield that wasn't too far from the hospital the wounded were being moved to. He arranged to "borrow" it from the owner as a temporary base and the metal buildings for the small aircrafts served as a perfect location for the Autobots. This allowed Ratchet to reattach Optimus' servo and to work on any other repairs that his teammates required.

Of course, not all of his intended patients were present. He still intended to figure out how much damage that Ironhide managed to add to what he'd already suffered, but that particular mech refused to come. Epps wasn't really surprised by that. The weapon specialist's absence was due to the exact same reason that the mostly-retired NEST member was organizing things instead of Will.

The moment that his friend learned that his daughter managed to sneak into Chicago, Epps saw him switch from being soldier to his more parental mindset. He could feel the man's desperation and concern skyrocket at the idea of his baby girl being in trouble. It was bad enough that Annabelle had been kidnapped earlier, but then Will had to learn that she'd ended up in a warzone without any type of protection. Sam had looked rather uncomfortable and nervous about bring this information to the man's attention. And the young man only got worse when he realized that Ironhide was also within listening range when the news was shared.

Neither the father nor the Cybertronian had to wait long to learn of the child's fate. When Optimus and Ratchet arrived, the battered figure in their possession, Epps saw his friend just barely prevent himself from breaking at the sight. And Ironhide…

The child was now at a hospital and the outlook was fairly positive. But there was no force on Earth, Cybertron, or anywhere else in the universe that would separate her father from her side. And Epps greatly pitied the suicidal idiot who tried to move Ironhide from his position in the parking lot right outside her window. Chromia had agreed to remain with the mech and watch him, but even Ratchet had given up on the lost cause of trying dragging him in for repairs until things improved for the girl.

After learning some of the details of what occurred, Epps felt that Sentinel was a rather lucky Cybertronian traitor. As capable a combatant he might have been, he doubted that that he would have been able to deal with the combined might of a furious Will and Ironhide after he harmed Annabelle. And if Sarah joined in the fight, a swift death would have been a mercy. If Sentinel knew what was good for him, he would avoid coming back to life like Megatron did.

He was currently in one of the metal sheds, observing the closest Autobots. Thus, he saw the moment when they apparently received a message over their com-link. Arcee, who was a little closer to him, reacted first. The rest followed almost immediately. Epps looked at her expectantly.

The transformed motorcycle explained simply, "She's awake."

* * *

She'd managed to get started with her project before her parents began to stir. The girl watched for a second, trying to see if Mommy would actually wake up or not. Annabelle didn't want to bother her, but she did want to find out what happened. She fought off the urge to yawn, thinking about how silly it would be if she fell back asleep before they woke up.

In the end, it was Daddy who shifted slightly and began to blearily open his eyes. As his gaze focused on her, the girl waved slightly with the hand that wasn't in a cast. At the sight of his daughter awake, he shook Mommy's shoulder and she opened her eyes too.

"Hey, Sweetheart," he greeted, standing up and walking over to her. "How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy and my head feels a little funny, Daddy," she described. "But that nice doctor lady said that it was because of some medicine stuff."

Her mother was giving her a hug gingerly, taking care not to touch the bruises that the girl had found all over the place. It was a little scary, though. Mommy was crying and she wasn't supposed to cry. She was a grown up and her mom. And everything seemed to be okay now.

"Annabelle, baby," she whispered as she held the girl close. "I'm so sorry. I'm going to kill that Simmons. And Sam."

"Why?" she asked curiously.

"They were supposed to be watching out for you," her parent explained, finally releasing her hug. "They should have kept this from happening."

"I just happy you're okay," added Daddy, reaching out and touching her hair.

"Ending up in a hospital is not 'okay,'" Mommy remarked. "Those Decepticons had better stay out of my way. If I see one of those psychotic mechs around my baby again, I'm going to rip out their eyes, tear off their faces, and mount their mangled heads over the mantle."

Her father glanced at his wife, commenting, "And that's why anyone with sense is afraid of you." Turning back towards Annabelle, he asked, "Sweetheart, Wheelie said that you snuck into the car with Epps and Sam. Why would you do that?"

The girl blinked in surprise at the question. Didn't her Daddy understand? It should be perfectly clear to her parent, but she would explain it he missed the obvious.

"Because bad guys can't win," she answered. When neither of her parents seemed to understand her logic, Annabelle continued, "They were doing lots of bad stuff. And the mean traitors were doing the worst stuff. But heroes stop that kind of thing from happening. Which is what Daddy and Ironhide are supposed to do. They make sure bad guys get stopped. Right?"

She waited for her father to nod, confirming both her explanation for his job and that he understood her so far. A slight look of confusion remained, however, so the girl knew that she needed to continue a little further.

"Sentinel Prime and Mr. Dylan Gould were really, really bad. And they needed to be punished for all the mean things they were doing. So I had to make sure they didn't get away with it."

"Annabelle, that's not your responsibility," her mother stated. "It isn't your job. You said it yourself that your father, Ironhide, and all the other soldiers and Autobots are supposed to take care of that."

"But Daddy can't do everything by himself," interrupted the child. "And they were _gone_. It blew up and I tried to call them…" Her throat got all tight and she had to remind herself that all her friends were okay, that Ironhide was sitting outside and what happened to the Xanthium didn't hurt the Autobots. Slowly, she explained, "The bad guys were winning, Mommy. That mean Sentinel Prime hurt Ironhide. And Jolt and Flareup are gone. Then, the spaceship was taking everyone away forever, but it was destroyed. And Mr. Dylan Gould kidnapped 'Kaela. It wasn't fair." She refused to cry. It was over now. If Mommy and Daddy were here and Ironhide was safe, the good guys must have won and everything was okay again. "It wasn't fair and Daddy can't do everything alone. He's supposed to have Ironhide to help him stop the bad guys. But Ironhide was… I thought he was gone."

When she didn't immediately continue, her parents reached over and gave her a hug. Even if she knew it wasn't true now, it was still so painful to imagine her favorite Cybertronian being gone. But that never really happened and she would never let it happen. And anyone who tried to take him away from her again would face her six year old wrath.

"If Ironhide couldn't help save everyone and stop the bad guys, I would do it for him. I wanted to make sure 'Kaela was rescued, but Sam did it first. And I had to make sure that the traitors were punished. I couldn't find Mr. Dylan Gould, but I found Sentinel Prime," Annabelle continued, growing more confident and angry as she discussed the two individuals. She couldn't quite remember what she did when she found him yet, but she would remember eventually and she didn't doubt that she tried to do something to him. "They needed to be punished. No one can kidnap Mikaela. And no one can hurt Ironhide. Never, ever, _ever_." She crossed her arms to the best of her ability while wearing a cast and with the tube thing on her other hand. "No matter what, bad guys can't get away with that."

She didn't immediately get a response from her parents, but she kept her stubborn expression. No matter what, even if she got in trouble, she couldn't back down. She would never let someone get away with hurting her friends. Even if Mommy and Daddy didn't want her to get hurt or go near mean robots, she couldn't just let bad things happen to Ironhide or Daddy or Mikaela or any of her friends or family. It wasn't right. She would let Ironhide and Daddy save the day most of the time because it was their job and they were the best at stopping bad guys, but she knew that she couldn't just let bad things happen to them if someone like Sentinel Prime ever came back.

Eventually, Mommy and Daddy looked at each other with an expression she rarely got to see: surrender. She usually saw this sort of thing from Sam whenever he did help Mikaela babysit. A couple of times, Simmons gave her a similar expression, usually with a scowl added in. But she didn't see it usually with her parents. It was especially rare for her mom to have that look on her face. Both of them seem to be giving up on arguing further. Her dad even had his shoulders slumped with defeat, essentially declaring without a word that she'd made her point.

"Why do I have a feeling you're going to be a little terror when you become a teenager?" muttered Daddy finally before kissing her gently on her forehead. "Telling you not to do something like this again isn't going to work obviously. Just try not attacking giant Cybertronians head on again, Annabelle. And don't do it unless there's no other option. Ironhide and I can deal with things at least until you're older."

Fighting back a yawn, she answered, "Okay."

* * *

He should probably head back to Mr. Simmons. He is his employer. But Dutch did not think that leaving would be the best idea currently since Mrs. Lennox hadn't given him permission to leave. And, until that woman agreed to let him return to his normal job, he would rather not risk his life by angering her.

Currently, he was playing security guard. A few of the braver and ladder-climbing members of the press were trying to slip into the hospital to gain a possible witness for the events in Chicago. They wanted to interview a citizen or a soldier who was being treated who might be able to give them a statement about the battle that could boost their career. Hospital workers and a few more able-bodied soldiers were already doing their best to discourage the inquiries. Dutch was providing his talents at managing the annoying scavengers that were seeking the perfect story.

Most of his efforts involved glaring towards anyone _not_ in a doctor's outfit or was clearly a patient who tried to wander towards a specific wing of the building. He didn't know if anyone would be insensitive enough to try interviewing a child about what they saw in Chicago, but he didn't intend to find out how Mrs. Lennox would react to such a thing. Dutch knew that it wouldn't end well, so he would keep playing security guard until the scary woman either said he could leave or the Lennox family left the premises.

A pair of semi-familiar faces began walking down the hallway towards him. The girl, her arms wrapped up in enough gauze to likely make a mummy jealous, was carrying a bag that he knew was likely occupied by something that would likely unnerve most of the people in the hospital currently. The man gave a slight smile and nodded in acknowledgment at the couple. Guessing where their final destination probably was, he gave slight nod and pointed in the right direction. He doubted that Mrs. Lennox would consider these two as problematic to deal with as the media. And he could probably discourage anyone else from wandering into the area who might disturb the coming meeting.

* * *

Annabelle was starting to get drowsy again when she and her parents were joined by some new arrivals. The young girl managed a smile as she spotted both Sam and Mikaela coming into the room. Her favorite babysitter was carrying a large backpack in her arms while the young man had his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Both of the young adults were not looking their best, considering that there were a number of cuts and scrapes across the pair of them and they both had bandages. But they were mostly all right and the child was rather happy to see them.

"Wow, they really did a number on you," remarked Sam, causing his girlfriend to smack his arm. Wincing at the impact, he looked at the young woman with a frown, " _Ow_ , don't do that. That's the arm that Starscream tried to yank off."

"You'll live," Mikeala answered quickly before sitting down on the edge of the hospital bed. She glanced towards Annabelle's parents, "If you want to go get some coffee or something, we can stick around for a while. We'll be fine and I can keep an eye on her. You look like you need a break."

Mommy didn't quite look like she was comfortable with the idea, but Daddy slowly lead her out of the room while whispering in her ear. Annabelle had the feeling that her parent would not be happy with the girl being out of sight anytime soon. And while she was enjoying getting to see both Mommy and Daddy without any mean Decepticons to interrupt things, she was also looking forward to talking to her favorite babysitter and making sure she was okay.

As soon as the older adults were out of the room, Annabelle prepared to ask about a million questions. She wanted to know what happened to Mikaela. How Sam rescued her. How the bad guys were stopped. What happened to Sentinel. But none of those were the first words that popped out of her mouth. Instead, the girl's eyes were drawn to the bandaged arms of the dark-haired young woman.

"What happened?" Annabelle asked, pointing with her free hand at Mikaela's injuries.

She wasn't, however, the one who answered. Abruptly the backpack that she'd brought in with her began to move and dark muttering emerged from inside. Finally, a familiar head poked out of the top and glared at the child.

"Warrior Goddess decided to turn a car into a rather large projectile and launch it at a Decepticon. And she had to dive out of the thing while it was still moving to make it work," Wheelie explained shortly.

He didn't quite look how he did when she last saw him. He looked a little bit like he'd been hit by a car. The most obvious injury was one of his eyes no longer glowing red and was instead kind of squished-looking. But it also looked like he was already a little fixed up. It was kind of hard to tell, but Annabelle was good at guessing these sorts of things. Mikeala probably tried to do some repairs, but she hadn't finished yet. The young woman wouldn't have let him stay in this condition for long without at least trying to do a little to fix him.

The small Cybertronian continued to wiggle out of the cloth container, ranting, "And she is _still_ not the craziest human in the room. You are so lucky that no one's tried to crush me out of existence. Do you have any idea how much you freaked everyone out? I told you to run _away_ from Decepticons, not _towards_ them! You sneak into the city, you wander around the place until you're lucky enough to bump into me and Brains, you disappear on us and, when we tried to find you with that crashed ship, we get sucked into the bigger enemy craft. Meanwhile, you decide to go running into danger and attack a Cybertronian, a Prime who went off the deep end, by apparently using a frontal assault. You could have been _killed_. How am I supposed to explain to everyone that you got away from me just to go get yourself killed? You could have been squashed like a bug or worse and I'd be stuck trying to convince everyone that it wasn't my fault."

"Calm down," Mikaela commanded. "Sam had this freak out already back in Chicago. You're going to upset her."

"Upset _her_? Everyone's upset about this," Wheelie pointed out. "That place was dangerous for adult humans and Cybertronians. It was suicidal for the kid. Do you remember how freaked out everyone was about her being kidnapped? And when we had to tell Lennox his daughter decided to take a fun little trip to Chicago? If her insane luck hadn't saved her, no one would..." He glared at Annabelle, but she didn't think he was as angry as he was acting. It was sort of like how Mommy was threatening to kill Sam and Simmons for not watching her better. He didn't want to say it, but he'd been worried about her and it was easier for him to act a little mean than to tell the truth. "Don't ever do that again."

At least he'd told her what she'd done to Sentinel. She attacked him. She didn't remember exactly how she did it, but apparently she tried to run straight at him to attack. She could see why it made everyone so worried.

A little meekly, she answered, "Okay."

"Good," the small Cybertronian nodded. "I really don't want to deal with everyone angry with me about your crazy tendencies. What human in their right mind runs towards a crazy giant robot without any kind of real weapon?"

Sam pointed out, "I did that against Megatron when I was in high school."

"I said 'right mind.' That kind of eliminates you, Sammy-boy."

"Anyway," interrupted Mikaela, trying to prevent a fight from breaking out around the girl. "How are you feeling, Annabelle?"

"Tired and my head feels kind of fuzzy," she admitted. "And sore. But it doesn't hurt as much as I think it's supposed to."

"Painkillers," nodded Sam sagely. "They are a wonderful thing."

"And it is weird with this cast on one arm and the tube thing on my other hand," she continued.

The young woman gave her a reassuring smile, "They'll take the IV out eventually and the cast will come off when your arm is better. And, all things considered, you got off pretty easy."

"Even if you look like you were run over," her boyfriend added, trying to make a joke out of it.

"Okay, okay, stop talking for a minute so I _can_ tell her," muttered Wheelie abruptly, but he didn't seem to be talking to any of them. Then he looked at Annabelle and stated, "Since apparently a bunch of giant Cybertronians wandering into the hospital to visit might be a little conspicuous, I'm supposed to pass on a few messages to you over the com-link. And they won't shut up long enough for me to _speak_."

The last part emerged as a slight snarl. It was easy to imagine all the Autobots trying to talk to Wheelie at once. In fact, the mental image brought a small smile to the child's face.

"Let's see… The twins are babbling incomprehensively about some nonsense. They probably want to team up with you for some type of prank. You can't understand half of what they say anyway. The Wreckers are impressed and want to meet you properly some time. Arcee and Chromia told them over their off-lined bodies. Something about a bad influence. Sideswipe and Mirage are referring to your stunt as crazy, but rather cool. Wheeljack said something about building something to go with the cast, but everyone told him not to even think about it," summarized Wheelie, clearly not impressed with his role repeating their words. "Ratchet mentioned that he'll be keeping an optic on your recovery. Optimus said something profound and rather impressive that I probably would mess up on if I tried to repeat it. Bumblebee wants to play you some song to let you know that he's glad you're okay and to let you know that Sam and Mikaela are getting married." He paused briefly, allowing the child to look at her favorite babysitter and the young man who was currently glaring at the former Decepticon for spoiling the surprise, before continuing, "And Ironhide is informing me that, if I don't tell you that he is rather relieved that you're awake and that he's sorry about not answering you earlier when you tried to call all of us, he's going to turn me into his newest target for his cannons."

Annabelle smiled at the messages from her friends, especially the last one, and remarked, "Can you tell them thank you and that I hope to see them as soon as I'm out of here?"

"I'm not a telephone," he muttered grumpily. Then, in a mildly more cooperative tone, added, "But, all things considered… I'll pass it along."

She almost tried to give the small mech a hug, but remembered the difficulties that would occur if she made the attempt with the cast and IV thing on her. Instead, she looked over at Mikaela.

"You're getting married?" she asked.

"Yeah, Sam finally proposed," the young woman confirmed. "After a little prompting from Bumblebee."

"And she said yes for some reason," added Wheelie quickly.

Mikaela gave the small Cybertronian a glare that declared that she would have hit him if he wasn't already looking rather pitiful. Then she looked back towards the young girl in the hospital bed.

"We haven't really figured out anything important about when the wedding will be or any type of arrangements for it. We haven't had the time," she explained. "Too much has been going on. But I know we're having an outdoors wedding so that we can invite _everyone_." She gestured towards Wheelie to indicate that she meant the Autobots. "And, if you would like to, would you like to be the flower girl, Annabelle?"

"The what?" she and Wheelie asked at the same time.

"Cute kids who toss petals around. Look it up," Sam explained to the former Decepticon.

The young woman rolled her eyes his less than helpful description and stated, "Usually flower girls are a younger sister or cousin or something for the bride and they get to walk down the aisle before the bride, dropping rose petals down on the way. I don't have any siblings and the only cousin I have is a seventeen year old boy who thinks that adding the word 'dude' to the end of all his sentences makes him cooler. I really don't see him very often and he definitely doesn't fit the whole 'flower girl' image. Besides, I'd like to have you there if you want to."

Fighting back another yawn, Annabelle nodded in agreement to the idea. Then, she immediately wished that she didn't. The dull and distant pain that she'd managed to ignore previously abruptly became sharp and very noticeable again. She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for it to fade away again. It was just as bad as when she first tried to sit up. Nodding apparently wasn't a good idea currently.

"You okay?" asked Wheelie, spotting her discomfort.

Mikaela, equally observant of her condition, remarked, "You're head hurting?"

"Yes," she mumbled. "I think I hit it earlier."

"I think you hit more than your head," Sam pointed out. "Like your arm. Or… everywhere." He gestured towards the girl. "I ended up less pounded when I ended up running around Mission City. And I ended up falling off a building. Optimus said that you ran straight towards Sentinel and he apparently kicked you away."

Trying to recall that specific event, Annabelle added slowly, "And I… had a piece of rebar. I stuck it in his foot first."

"So _that_ was your plan? Stab him in the foot?" asked Wheelie. "You are crazy. Completely and utterly crazy. Next you'll say you plan to go after Megatron with a water balloon."

For some reason, Annabelle had the urge to stick her tongue out at the former Decepticon. Water balloons were for friends. She wouldn't use them to attack a bad guy. She'd figure out something better. Or just let Ironhide blast them.

"Did you draw something on your cast already?" Mikaela commented, taking her arm gently. "You know, you're supposed to have other people sign them. Not doodle all over them yourself."

She explained drowsily, her efforts to stay away and participate in the conversation starting to finally fail, "It was important."

While the rough texture of the cast had made it more difficult to make the image clear, she'd managed to draw a black truck on her arm. It looked a little like it was driving towards her elbow. She would have preferred if she could have made it look a little neater, but it was more important that it was there than how well she'd managed to draw it.

"Well, it turned out pretty good," Sam stated. He sat down in one of the plastic chairs that her parents earlier occupied. "We're going to relax here for awhile, but you can take a nap if you're tired. Those painkillers can really take it out of you, especially after a few days of insane chaos."

"I'm not that sleepy," the girl mumbled stubbornly, but she didn't really sound that convincing.

"Yeah, right," remarked Wheelie. "I give her five minutes until she's out cold." He looked at Sam, "Try to keep alert. I'd rather not have a nurse come in and freak out about me before I get a chance to hide. She might wake up Mini-Ironhide."

"I'm not sleeping," Annabelle argued, her eyes already shutting.

* * *

Having Wheelie go in there and check on her felt mildly reassuring, but seeing her peer out the window earlier down at him had been the most wonderful sight he'd seen in his entire existence. Nothing that anyone said about her being all right could have convinced him fully. He needed to see her, to see her awake and alert. Being able to hold her would have been better, but that short glimpse through the hospital window and Annabelle waving to him was good enough for now. Wheelie going in there and proving beyond a doubt that the precious youngling was doing better was still a nice reassurance moment for Ironhide.

"The kid's asleep," Wheelie remarked over the com-link. "Warrior Goddess and the pest are going to hang around until her parents get back." The former Decepticon paused for a moment before muttering, "She'll be safe. We'll keep an optic on her."

The disguised truck, without another word, slowly began to pull out of the parking lot. He didn't want to leave. He would have preferred to remain as close as possible until the girl came down to see him in person. But Ratchet was rather anxious to drag him for repairs and Ironhide had to grudgingly admit that there was nothing more than he could do for the child at this moment. Though he hated being useless.

He was an old mech who'd seen and experienced far too much. He'd been in battle more times than he could count. He'd face impossibly massive enemy forces. He'd seen horrifying levels of destruction and death. He'd charged into combat with numerous allies, both experienced and untried in the ways of war, falling beneath the weapons of the most merciless of Decepticons. Far too many times, he'd barely emerged in one piece while those around him were lost. He'd faced the threat of torture and death fairly often, both for himself and those who stood beside him on the battlefield. He dealt with impossible situations where not everyone would manage to come back from it. He'd lost so many brave individuals, too many friends, while he still struggled forward. Every horror he could imagine, he'd faced and fought against repeatedly even when all other allies were being destroyed by those same forces.

But nothing scared Ironhide more than the sight of that small and broken young girl being carried by Optimus after the battle in Chicago. Annabelle wasn't supposed to be there. It was far too improbable, but she'd managed to find her way there. The youngling was so fragile and she was far too still when he saw her. She was supposed to be the lively and cheerful child that drew pictures of her friends and threw water balloons at Sam and Wheelie. She wasn't supposed to be so limp and motionless.

He thought he'd been afraid for her when he she was merely lost on the battlefield or when she was in Decepticon possession before. But seeing her hurt, _broken_ , was almost more than he could handle. He'd rather fight Megatron, the Fallen, and Sentinel Prime alone than see Annabelle in that condition ever again. Actually, he wouldn't mind the chance to face that traitorous red mech again. The thought of him harming the girl, of how close Sentinel probably came to snuffing out the life of such a wonderful little youngling, left Ironhide both furious and terrified.

Mostly, though, he felt helpless. He couldn't keep her from being snatched up from her own home by Decepticons. He couldn't comfort her when she began to cry, convinced that the Autobots had been in the ship as it was destroyed. He couldn't protect her from being hurt by that traitor. And he almost lost Annabelle. The idea was too painful to admit or consider.

So even if he knew that he couldn't do anything to help her, Ironhide had to stay close to the girl until he knew she would be all right. He waited patiently, listening to both Optimus and Wheelie explain what they knew of how she'd ended up in the situation. He learned that she'd followed Sam both to rescue Mikaela and to punish those responsible for the kidnapping of the young woman and for betraying the Autobots. He realized that she was, among other things, trying to avenge their supposed deaths with her actions. That was likely part of her motivation at least until Wheelie informed her of their survival. And he heard how she'd tried to apparently attack Sentinel, the traitorous mech who hurt the weapon specialist and upset her so much, and she'd been hurt in the attempt. She wouldn't have been in the city if it wasn't for the destruction of the Xanthium. Annabelle's injuries were due to the fact none of them could tell her they weren't on board when it exploded. If only he could have answered her, she would have been safe. Of course, no one could have predicted the lengths the child would go when faced with the possibility of the Autobots' demise, but he wished more than anything that she hadn't ended up charging onto the battlefield.

But every depressing thought and horrible idea of what could have happened to her evaporated when the small figure peered out the window. Seeing her up and moving again, even if he couldn't touch her, was enough to warm the old mech's spark. It gave him hope that she would, truly, be all right in the end. He could finally relax a little. Annabelle was safe. Wheelie even managed to confirm it when he, Sam, and Mikaela went to her room. The youngling was might be hurt, but he would get the girl back again. And now that he was completely assured of her safety and well-being, it was probably all right to let Ratchet take a look at him.

Besides, a certain motorcycle had continued to point out that it would probably make the girl feel better if he was back to his old self by the time they let her out of the hospital. Chromia, her hologram activated, followed closely behind him as he traveled down the road. She intended to make sure that he made it to his destination. The femme could be rather stubborn and didn't surrender to anyone. That was probably part of the reason they got along so well.

* * *

Hospitals were boring. Even if she spent a lot of time asleep, Annabelle was bored silly by the time they said she could go home. They wanted to make sure that, when she bumped her head, she didn't do anything really bad. But it was still really boring after a while. Staying there a few days made the time feel like it was lasting forever.

They finally took off the tube thing. She still had the cast and there were still bruises, even if they were fading away. Mommy said the doctors wrote up a prescription for some more medicine if her arm and everything hurt too much, but Annabelle didn't really like how weird it made her feel. And a lot of medicine tasted yucky. What if the new medicine did too? Maybe her arm would be good enough that she wouldn't have to take it too much.

At least they were doing one thing fun. They were pushing her towards the exit in one of the wheelchairs. The nurse pushing said they do this sort of thing for a lot of their patients when they leave and it was kind of neat. The nurse also said that Annabelle had been one of their sweetest patients, but lots of grownups say that sort of thing if they like kids.

Mommy and Daddy were walking beside her as they headed for the door. She didn't know if all of them would get to go home or if he'd have to go help take care of the big mess some more. But at least she got to spend time with him while she was in the hospital.

As soon as the wheelchair reached the front door, the girl jumped up and broke into an excited run. It wasn't the fastest run ever; a big bruise that was still on her side made moving too fast kind of hard. But it didn't matter. What _did_ matter was her destination.

Sitting in the parking lot, waiting for her, was a black truck she'd missed desperately. As soon as she reached him, the door opening for her, Annabelle scrambled into the safe and comforting chairs with a relieved smile spread across her face. She wanted nothing more than to stay curled up in this spot forever. Everything was all right. Everything was all right, just like he promised her.

On the brink of tears, she whispered, "I missed you so much, Ironhide."


End file.
